Survival
by Eyes like Dawn
Summary: Wren is an expert at survival, most of her life as a slave has depended upon it. For many years survival is all she's ever known, until a Blood elf shows her that survial isn't all to life.
1. Chapter 1

**Reviews are a nice welcome.**

**Blizzard own Warcraft, I own nothing.**

**~8~8~**

Darkness lay like a shroud over the scarred forest of Silver pine, fog drifted knee high along the damp dead grass. Bears stalked the night, as spiders spun trap webs for the unaware. Wolves bayed in the distance proclaiming a victorious kill or singing their mournful tune to the hidden moon. From a pine needle covered hole, a human girl, named Wren, curled up tighter at the ominous night sounds. It was the wolves that scared her the most, the overwhelming smell of pine would do little to mask her filthy scent from them.

She chewed a bitter herb ravenously the only meager food she had foraged that day. This place wrought with terror and despair, was very different from her old home in Southshore where even at her direst there was a place to come back to and wood in the hearth for warmth, a safe haven if she had even known one. Just thinking of the burned out, raided, and ravaged town brought stinging tears to her eyes. It was only by lights mercy she had been out on one of her little 'wanderings' when the Horde had attacked. Her uncle, although a deplorable citizen to society, had been the only family she had ever known and now even he had been taken away from her either captured or killed. Her only option then had been to flee, and search for another Alliance town where maybe it would be safe, perhaps she could find a way to the legendary city of Stormwind where it was rumored they could make a hero out of anyone.

When she saw the gates of Hillsbrad from afar, however, she kept moving unbeknownst to her deeper into Horde territory. Now she was…light knew where, the only thing she knew for certain was that she was heading south. By her reckoning she'd have to hit an Alliance territory sometime.

"That is if nothing kills you first." She grumbled quietly swiping a loose strand of golden hair away from her dirt smeared face.

But so far, she admitted, she was doing alright for herself, she wasn't dead, that had to be worth something. Her insatiable wanderlust had taught her how to survive in the wilds. She smiled thinking of the better days when sometimes it would be a week before she decided to head home, just seeing how long she could last. Not that her uncle cared about her wandering, he only cared about her when she could get him out of a jam. There were many times she had had to do… 'Things' for her uncles debtors so they would loose their house or be killed or perhaps even eat in the winter. Yep, if there was one thing Wren knew how to do it was survive by any means necessary.

Another wolf howled this time farther away, but it still made Wren cringe, this hole she had clawed out at the base of a hill was miserable, but her only protection and she couldn't risk a fire this night, too many eyes might be watching. Loneliness held her in its tight somber grip, with out even the dim cheer a fire brought she felt despondent. From beneath the wispy gray black clouds and through the tangled diseased trees, the moon peeked out shining into Wren's face. Tears sprung to her eyes again thinking of her moonlit walks on the shores of Hillsbrad where she'd watch Naga slither around from afar and wonder what it might be like to do battle with such mighty creatures.

Ever so softly, almost non audible she began to sing. The notes came out clear and sweet like those of a seasoned bard, barely above a whisper. She sang of the Alliance and their heroic battles, songs of travel, and the songs the fly by adventurers brought to Southshore. It was a gift she'd used for extra coin around the tavern, and had more than once kept her and her uncle from starving. When she sang her heart felt a little better as if she could go on for one more day, the world did not look so cold and uncaring. So preoccupied with her singing she didn't realize someone was close by. A forsaken scout hurried through the forest like a wisp of wind, feet barely making a crunch against the dead grass and leaves. Although haggard and ramshackle looking, the undead were masters of silence and stealth both of which were highly sought after in the Banshee queens army.

It was a short time later, when the scout found his was back to his commander, he saluted, his voice all but a whisper. "Captain Muller, a girl has hidden herself along the next three knolls from here. I got close enough to hear her singing something awful pretty." He grinned lopsidedly. "Perhaps the dark lady would find her amusing for a time."

Captain Muller was ugly, even by undead standards, in life he had been a hardened man of war, and in death it was no different. Scars of weapons crisscrossed his snow white bone etched with dirt and one eye was missing looking like a candle that had blown out. The usual somber captain nodded as he received the information, showing no hint of what he was thinking in his tactical forsaken head. Lighting his pipe, one of his last remnants of humanity, the brief flash of fire illuminated his face in weird patterns while his mind was roving over options. His forces were bored, having only scouting duty to look forward to was dull work but this new fact added a little enjoyment to the night. "Alright my warriors, we're going to have a little fun. I want all of you spread out in a ten feet radius. Anyone who sets off her suspicion gets a two month pay dock. I'll explain as we go alone. Now, move out."

The death stalkers nodded and moved silently into the night, like the wolves, surrounding their prey.

Wren closed her eyes settling down to sleep, her soul finally soothed by the songs she'd sang. Clutching a well worn rusted dagger just in case danger was near she felt herself being drawn into the realm of sleep. A branch snapped stopping her heart. Her eyes popped open, as she held in a wavering breath. Perhaps a deer or stag? Another sounded in succession, defiantly not an animal. Holding completely still the rustling grew louder; she clutched her dagger tighter until her knuckles became whiter than the moonlight.

Captain Muller sauntered over the lay of the base of the hill. As far as he could see, no one was here; there was nothing disturbed, and nothing out of place. Perhaps all his soldier had heard was a whippoorwill. As he was heading back to his men, feeling rather disappointed, completely by accident he feel into Wren's hiding spot. Wren came bounding out of the hole, pushing the carcass of mostly bone and putrid flesh away with adrenaline strength as she ran for her life. Ducking, dodging, twisting, turning, she did not even look back to see who or what had fallen into her hole. The only thing burning in her mind was survival, run, the word thudded to the beat of her heart. Behind her she could here, someone yelling in a language she didn't understand. All around her wild yells filled the night; yellow eyes appeared everywhere, bony hands reached out to brush her, like leafless branches, guiding her into a trap. She made a crucial mistake of looking back once seeing how many pursued her, and how far away they were. When she turned forward again she ran into the awaiting maw of a weighted net.

Forsaken soldiers surrounded her immediately swords all pointing to her. Muller came striding up, his yellow eye dancing with the excitement of the hunt. He carried her meager pack kneeling down to her, his crooked smile dangerous and frightening. Wren couldn't tell what he said but the tone sent a shiver of fear down her spine. Muller gave an order and two stripped poles were brought forth, and were attached to either side of the net. Soldiers then lifted Wren off the ground with ease, heading to the camp where the lady Sylvanas dwelled.

~8~8~

At the forsaken first base, the Dark Lady sat in her private tent a small glass of brandy in one hand and a report from the front in the other. Sylvanas sighed taking another sip, of the fiery liquid, this was the 8th time she had read over the old news, for lack of anything better to do. This was the whole trouble with siege warfare as far as she was concerned. The waiting was eternity and the ironic thing about it was she had just that. A horn blared ringing through the command center, telling another company, more than likely Captains Muller's was back from scouting, with probably no new news. Disdainfully she threw the report upon her desk, waiting for the scout captain to enter and bring her his findings, and yet no one came.

From inside her tent she could hear loud mumbling and footsteps, all headed in one direction, an oddity, something had caught her people's attention. Finishing off her glass, and instinctively reaching for her bow, she got up to see the commotion.

Her troops, those not on duties of course, surrounded the returning scouting party in a wide circle, some jumped to see what they had brought while other pushed their way through the crowd.

Sylvanas perched an eyebrow standing in the back of the crowd. "What have you got there, Muller?"

Upon hearing her voice, the crowd parted leaving a path to the scout captain open. He moved aside revealing the girl, her eyes wide in fear. Sylvanas strolled up to the net, she looked at the girl. Her hair mussed about with moss strands caught in the amber honey locks. Dirt and blood mixed on her body, the gauntness in her eyes spoke of hunger, she could be no older than 17, 18 at the most. The dark lady turned her head to Muller. "Where'd you find this pitiful thing?"

He bowed to her respectfully his bones scraping together at the gesture. "A few miles west of the lake, milady." Muller knelt down cutting the net with Wren's own dagger. He jerked on her hair dragging her into a kneeling position in front of Sylvanas. "I thought she could be of some sort of entertainment, my queen."

"Really." She sighed a hint of annoyance in her chilly monotone voice. "Do your men ever grow tired of seeing how many ways they can mutilate someone. The sight has become quite a bore."

Muller shook his head. "I wasn't planning on killing her first off. One of my men heard her singing 'Awful pretty' as he put it."

Sylvanas looked intrigued, who could possible want to sing in this detestable forest. "Perhaps, let's see what she's got."

Sylvanas knelt down to the girl, lifting her chin in a cold hand, her red eyes staring into green. She spoke common. "My commander tells me you can sing. So sing me a pretty tune before I throw you to my men, perhaps if it's good enough I'll make your end swift as a reward."

Survival kicked into Wren's mind, she hated the woman in front of her, she had destroyed everything she'd known, those rare happy times demolished before her ravenous undead. But that wasn't the point right now; her only thoughts were for staying alive. She remained kneeling, her mind roving over the songs that might appease her captor. It was now her only chance to keep breathing. Taking a wavering breath, she sang the lament of the high borne, one of her favorites. The notes came out like silk; they drifted on the chilling air and floated through the misty breeze, every note, every inflection every syllable uttered was perfect. By the time she had finished no one spoke no one moved. All eyes were on her and Sylvanas, eager for a reaction from their leader.

Sylvanas stared at Wren her face neutral. "Where did you learn that song?" Her voice tight giving away a slight hint emotion shocking anyone who knew the dark lady.

"An adventurer taught me when I lived in Southshore, mistress." Wren tactfully avoided it was a night elf who had taught it to her fearful her captor might frown on that little fact.

"You sang it beautifully." Sylvanas admitted.

"Thank you, mistress." Wren beamed inwardly, she didn't know why but a complement from the leader of the forsaken was flattering in its own twisted way.

Sylvanas smiled slightly cocking her head to the side just an inch. "What's your name, human?"

"Wren, mistress." She replied humbly, her heart racing. The dark lady had not immediately thrown her to the soldiers, there was hope!

"A fitting name." Sylvanas nodded.

Silence, Wren knew this was the moment of truth. Muller grabbed her hair roughly causing her to cry out as she was brought to her feet. "Should I throw her to the men now, that pretty little voice will ring high above screams of the others."

The dark lady stared at her for a moment her face caught in a chill pondering expression. Wren didn't breathe, her heart back flipping crazily in her chest.

Sylvanas shook her head. "No, this one amuses me; anyone who touches her will be dealt with severely. Release her, please, Muller."

Muller instantly let the girl go; she was shaking badly from the last few experience and looking at Sylvanas gratefully. The dark ladies voice had something of a wisp of kindness in it, nearly undetectable. "Follow me, my little Wren."

Wren nodded, glancing at the grimly staring soldiers. She kept a close proximity to the dark lady. They arrived at Sylvanas' tent. The banshee queen took her customary seat, pouring herself another drink. Wren stood up; head down, hands clasped in front of her the smell of wormwood and formaldehyde permeating her nose.

Sylvanas took a sip of the strong alcohol, sighing, and sizing her up. "So now that I've spared you, what should I do with you?"

Wren shrugged forcing herself to remain silent. If the banshee queen was expecting a plea for her life, Sylvanas would more than likely throw her to the soldiers.

"Speak, my little Wren." Her voice amused swirling the light brown mixture in her glass. "I would like to know your thoughts."

"My life is yours to do with as you please, mistress." The human dodged uncomfortably.

Sylvanas snorted rolling her sanguine eyes. "I know that, girl. The question is what to do with it?"

Before Wren could accumulate a response, the banshee queen waved her hand impatiently. "Bah, we will think of these things later. You're safe for now so you can relax. In the mean time, keep singing your pretty little songs and you just might live to see another week."

Wren nodded obediently, letting her shoulders slump slightly. A week was something; perhaps she could find a way to escape her undead captors. "As you say, mistress."

For now she was in relative safety that was the best she could hope. Sylvanas walked to the tent flap, talking lowly to a guard in gutter speak. Wren watched as the guard nodded then stalked off. The banshee offered her a seat, only then did the human know how tired she was. Wren slid into the skull motif chair weakly clutching the pine-oak desk. They sat in silence, the dark lady scanning her intently, till a tantalizing smell entered the human's nostrils. The guard strode in a shield serving as a platter on top a bowl of stew and a large hunk of bread. He sat it in front of the girl bowed to Sylvanas then exited the tent. To Wren's credit her mouth didn't began to drool although she looked at the food. Her stomach growled, sending pains shooting through her belly.

"Eat, Wren." Sylvanas bade with half a smirk.

She needed no second bidding. Stuffing her mouth with stew dipped bread and large meat chunks she deemed to be bear meat. Sylvanas questioned her as she ate. "Was Southshore your original home?"

Wren slowed eating, she seemed sad, chewing over the answer. "It was the only home I had ever known, mistress. I lived there with my uncle, my parents died when I was very young."

Sylvanas nodded. "I see. What were you doing in Silver Pine?"

"I had never been out of Hillsbrad. I was searching for any Alliance strongholds still standing."

Wren swallowed hard, she had slipped the moments the words had left her mouth. The look on Sylvanas' face was sheer fury her voice barely contained. "The last claw of the Alliance is Gilneas, you missed it entirely. Southern Lorderan belongs to me." With out warning she reached over the table clutching Wren's neck lifting her easily as a sack of potatoes spilling the brandy across the table, toppling books and vials. "As do you."

Wren nodded vigorously, struggling to breath, her voice croaked. "I understand, mistress."

Keeping her up in the air a moment longer, Sylvanas dropped he suddenly her face back to a neutral coolness. "You appear to have an instinctive knack for survival, Wren. I admire that in any creature. I'll forgive that little slip of the tongue but watch what you say."

"Thank you, mistress." Wren whispered rubbing her neck her mine whirling. She eyed the spill glass, warily before turning back to Sylvanas.

Sylvanas arched her eyebrow, resting back in her chair, she saw what Wren was doing, and inwardly applauded her for it. "Want to make yourself useful so that I can keep you around." She nodded, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Alright, my little Wren, I will see if you are worth the keeping."


	2. Safe

Days flew by in a whirl at the Forsaken command camp, word had spread all the way down to the first assault base that the Dark Lady had shown a surprising amount of mercy and had taken a human in her charge. Wren tried to ignore the forsaken all around her, but the curios and sometimes hateful stares the undead gave her were becoming almost unbearable. Couldn't they understand, just like they, she was making the best of a bad situation. The dark lady could be spontaneous and dangerous at times to put it mildly, always lashing out in outrage or suggesting subtle threats, making Wren often wonder why she didn't just get it over with and let them kill her, it would have to happen sometime. Would it be better to be dead than always teetering on the edge of death? But she couldn't simply let them kill her, as much as she could grow wings and fly. Survival was her creed now, just get from day to day alive, and although she would never admit it a part of her relished the challenge before her.

Wren accompanied Sylvanas everywhere she went, always on hand for some task but that never bothered the human in the least, knowing that the more uses Sylvanas found for her, the greater the chance of not getting killed. The human's days were filled with running errands, and delivering messages often leading to rather frustrating encounters being that her rudimentary orcish didn't help much in her tasks. But on the other hand if Sylvanas was actually letting her get a better grasp on the guttural language then there was even more hope, Wren prayed, that she could survive this ordeal still breathing.

A light rain fell over the haunted realm of Silver Pine, incredibly transforming a detestable forest even more miserable than usual. Wren struggled to wipe rain from her vision, as she stumbled into Sylvanas' private tent, arms laden with silver scroll cases that threatened to tumble away at any given moment. The banshee queen barely acknowledged the dripping wet and shivering human, scribbling something on a piece of parchment. "What's all that?" She asked casually.

"From what I could gather from the scout it's news from the front, mistress." Wren replied tentatively having precariously found the perfect balance for the many scrolls in her arms.

Sylvanas perched her head up then, looking at the human with something of an amused twinkle in her eye. Cruelly she took a scrolls right from the middle of the stack, nearly making them all tumble to the ground. Wren cursed the Banshee Queen inwardly though didn't dare loose her concentration for the balancing act she was currently engaged. She wouldn't put the scrolls down even if they were on fire, first painful lesson learned about the banshee queen: She hated clutter. Everything was kept neat and orderly with a consequence tacked on if it was not.

By the time Sylvanas finished reading them all Wren's arm ached, but the ecstatic look on the leaders face she ignored the stinging. She stood up from the chair, smiling. "It is good news, my little Wren, run out to tell the portal master we need a portal to the forsaken front. And after see my quarter master about finding a cloak in your size, I can't have you dying on me just yet."

The human nodded zipping out of the tent, and shivered against the cold wet, wondering what exactly was the 'good news'.

~8~8~

"Prepare for the dark ladies arrival!" A commander yelled out as the portal at the Forsaken front began to appear.

Both sides of the portal were lined with troops yellow eyes forward, saluting with both arms crossed around there chest. An undead horse pawed the ground as it cantered out, the dark lady striding atop looking regal in her own post-humus way. Another undead horse came out this time bearing a human, the cowl of a dark blue cloak covering her features with a few wisps of hair flowing out. More then a few eyes glanced Wren's way, she could feel there cold yellow eyes upon her as if they desired the command from Sylvanas at any moment to rip her limb from limb. Behind her Sylvanas' private retinue along with troops followed through in precision ranks, Muller, her captor, among them.

The commander in charge of the assault base near the Gilnean line saluted Sylvanas sharply. The Dark Lady saluted back flippantly her voice impatient. "I have no time for pomp and formality, Commander Stills, tell me what you have found that will so damn Gilneas."

He smiled, bowing. "It is best if you see for yourself, milady, so that you can judge the best way to utilize its potential. It's not far, follow me."

They began riding again, a fair distance away, but parallel to the broken Gilnean wall. Wren stared at the crumbling gray walls of Gilneas, even from a distance she could see the Worgen on the walls some in their human form, a ragged pennant of the Alliance floating high above the city. The Gilnean's looked back as well and knew she was riding with Sylvanas unfettered and seemingly in no hurry to escape.

The ride, contrary to Commander Still's first estimation, was long; the only sounds were those of the bleak forest and the crunch of dead grass giving break to the monotony.

"Wren." Sylvanas called without looking back.

The human suppressed a sigh moving her animal to walk steadily beside that of the dark lady's. "Yes, mistress?"

The banshee queen was silent for a moment then turned her head to face Wren. "So close to the walls of Gilneas, a heavily defended Alliance city. Have you even thought of trying to escape?"

Wren swallowed hard, she had just entered a fatal discussion and knew it. "I have, mistress, but the chances of my getting their at all are slim and none."

"How do you figure?" She asked intrigued.

"Well, the guards have already seen me riding with you. If I did manage to reach the walls they'd probably think I was under your mind control or a spy at the very least. And even before then I'd have to outrun arrows, bullets, soldiers, and more than likely you, mistress. And furthermore why would I escape to a city that is fast loosing a siege."

Sylvanas chuckled. "So very clever, my little Wren. You are nothing if not a survivalist and tactician." She sobered again. "But despite all that, I know the yearn for freedom is very powerful. How close were you to running off?"

Wren took a deep breath bracing herself for whatever came next. "I was still considering it; I was waiting to see how far we came to the walls."

"Enough to gauge your chance of survival." The dark lady concluded.

Wren nodded, heart pounding Sylvanas rarely gave any hint of emotion before she was about to do something. She held the animal reigns looser preparing to jump off in case the banshee queen whipped out a dagger. When she smiled it was all Wren could do not to give a loud sigh of relief.

"You're smart, Wren, perhaps even smarter than I'd like."

The human's stomach clenched, she now saw the smile for what it was, a ploy to gauge Wren's own emotions on the matter. She now knew Wren would do anything to stay alive. To the girl's horror, she didn't know if the banshee queen disliked or approved it.

They remained silent for a ways roving deeper in the forest. Wren could only help but feel the weight of dread stacked on her, one for not knowing what Sylvanas would do to her when they reached where ever they were going. And two, an inward survival instinct reared up in the back of Wren's head, telling her something was amiss. The forest even for all it's macabre was still a forest, animal life of some sort should have been stirring yet it had suddenly gone eerily quiet. Wren looked around at the guards and Sylvanas if they felt it as well they certainly weren't showing it.

"How far off are we?" Sylvanas growled impatiently.

"A mile, no more." Stills replied.

Alarm bells went off in Wren's head. She had heard no one; especially commanders speak with anything but reverence to their queen. The statement the Forsaken commander had made had been all but polite at best. Something was defiantly wrong here. Sylvanas wasn't in the best of moods either, she desired to be back at command center, plotting or torturing or whatever it was the Dark Lady did for a past-time.

Swallowing hard, Wren sought the courage to initiate the conversation. "Mistress." She whispered lowly. Sylvanas ignored her although she knew Wren rarely ever started a talk. "Mistress." She began again. This time however the dark lady turned on her slapping Wren so hard the human almost toppled out of her saddle.

Stars filled Wren's vision, the sharp taste of blood erupting in her mouth, and from the corner of her eye the flash of a silver arrow head caught her attention.

"You will speak when spoken to." Sylvanas' tone was colder than usual, glowering at the human.

Suddenly Wren jerked in her saddle lunging at the dark lady. "Get down!" Wren yelled. Grabbing the clasp of the banshee queen's cloak causing both human and forsaken to topple from their saddles landing on the ground hard. It took Sylvanas off guard to say the least which was extremely hard to accomplish and did not usually end well for those who had surprised her. In an instant Sylvanas had a dagger to Wrens throat, glaring fury at her. "Are you crazy! I will kill you where you lay, human!"

The next moment an arrow zoomed out of the forest brush landing in the side of a tree Sylvanas was just about to ride past. Sylvanas saw the trap then, right before the forest came alive with Worgen. More arrows flew, whizzing through her forsaken ranks, the banshee queen saw them take down two of her guards. Muller was barking out orders, to the confused soldiers, trying to regain some sense of command to the troops. Stills had turned paler than even that of a regular undead, his body jerked and cringed, mouth open wide till a ectoblastic spirit departed his body and he fell limp, truly dead. Sylvanas screeched in fury, Mind control. The enemy had used mind control on one of her best commanders to lead her into a trap! There was no telling how much work she would have to backtrack from this disaster.

Wren looked up at the banshee queen not daring to move she knew the blade was poisoned and did not want to risk it nicking her. Sylvanas sprang up, forgetting the human, her own bow drawn. Wren put a hand to her neck coughing and praising her survival instincts. Now would be an excellent time to escape she knew, with all the chaos surely Sylvanas would never see her again. An arrow landed close to her and she knew it was meant to kill, Worgen were looking at her, filled with fury they thought her a traitor which summarily meant she had a death warrant upon her head.

"Guess not." Wren grumbled. The Worgen were going to kill everyone, that wasn't in their little failed attack, her included. It seemed she and Sylvanas were on the same side again. Wren scrambled on her belly attempting to find something to defend herself with as arrows and bullets flew above her wondering how this was going to turn out for her.

The Worgen commander cursed loudly from his hiding spot claws clenching and unclenching in fury, their one chance to be rid of the dark lady, all his planning and scheming, and that little human had ruined it! He wanted to rip the girl limb from limb but he had bigger problems right now, Sylvanas was on a killing spree with his men. Every arrow she let fly hit its mark. The forsaken soldiers were regrouping and formulating an offensive strike, the hit and run was a wash.

"Retreat, back to Gilneas!" He yelled.

His orders were cut short as Wren bashed him over the head with a heavy limb. The beast man gave a funny sort of yip, slashed out at her, then fell limp. Wren smiled victoriously spitting down at the unconscious Worgen. "That's for shooting at me, bastard."

She took his dagger and thrust it into her boot, perhaps if she delivered him alive, she could get back in Sylvanas' good graces. Again the thought of just running off into the forest entered her mind briefly, now that the attack was over, surely through all the chaos Sylvanas would never find her.

As she was considering her options, she never heard the last of the Worgen stop its retreat, having spotted the traitor and was now charging in a rage. The growling and the snarling turned Wren's attention back to the present just in time to turn and see the leaping Worgen. Before she even knew what she was doing, the dagger she'd taken was in her hand and pointed at the Worgen's heart just as he leapt atop her effectively skewering him. A flash of pain hit Wren's side as a claw thrashed into her. Even dying the Worgen's fury could not be halted. Eventually it stop thrashing and Wren managed to get free of the furry bulk, grateful it had not bitten her. Wren felt a stinging pain by her side and touched it, blood coming back with her hand. She cursed aloud she would never be able to strike it out on her own with such a wound, but if she went back to Sylvanas their was a chance the dark lady would see her well again.

The battle was over faster than it had begun, those not dead had long since retreated back to Gilneas leaving the Forsaken victors of the day. Wren came stumbling through the brush towards the dark lady who was chatting with Muller. Sylvanas arched an eyebrow to the girl, surprised she had come back.

She bowed to the banshee queen. "Mistress the commander of this hit and run lies unconscious in the brush awhile away."

The makeshift poultice of fern leaves and mud she had placed on her wound had begun to seep, her eyes grew foggy she fell to her knees and knew no more.

~8~8~

Wren woke groggily to murmurs in gutter speak, a low fire sparkled in her peripheral vision, two Forsaken sat beside it. The human tried to sit up, wondering what was going on. She gasped laying back down as her side exploded with pain. The two Forsaken jumped at the noise turning to face her. One gave sharp orders to the other who raced out of the tent. The one left walked over to Wren placing a bony hand on her shoulder. "Lay…rest." Were all the words he managed to get out in his clumsy grasp of common.

The tent flap opened, and Sylvanas walked in. She gave a sharp command in gutter speak and the other Forsaken scurried out. Leaving she and Wren alone. The girl watched as Sylvanas pulled up a chair beside the sick bed, her eyes studying her intently. "How are you feeling?"

Wren grunted shifting her position slightly. "Better mistress, thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." Sylvanas chuckled. "It was my curiosity that made me decide to bring you along."

"Curiosity of what, may I ask."

The dark lady cocked her head to the side. "Why did you save me? I have made you my slave, and yet you still pulled me down. Plus, if you had let me go, you would have done a great service for the Alliance."

Wren looked down her voice low. "Ironically the only reason I'm alive here and now is because of your good graces. If you die, I die to put it simply, mistress. And I don't care about the Alliance, I care about me living."

Sylvanas nodded. "Ah, that indefatigable survival instinct again."

The dark lady leaned over to the girl laying the dagger she had taken from the Worgen commander on her chest, her voice amused. "And what pray tell had you designed to do with that?"

Despite the warmth of the tent, Wren felt cold all over, if Sylvanas got wind of any murder attempt it would be her head! Oddly enough she had taken the blade for no other reason than that of survival, she had not meant to use it on anyone.

"You would deny me a way to protect myself, mistress?" She asked shakily.

Sylvanas paused for a moment considering the words. She chuckled, leaving the blade on her chest. "Clever, clever, my little Wren. You are very lucky you didn't try to use it on me, or attempt to run, because that little curse I put on you would have definitely kicked in, painfully so."

The confusion on Wren's face was priceless to the dark lady as the girl blanched at the implication, "You mean…"

Sylvanas nodded trying hard to contain a smile, " That's right, Wren, as you so well put it, if I die, you die."

The phrase left Wren speechless as the dark lady got up, heading for the door, she turned back to Wren. "If it wasn't for you I'd probably be dead. As a reward I will keep you alive, and see to it you have proper training in the use of daggers. You've the makings of an assassin, Wren, which will come in very useful to me." With that she left, leaving Wren alone to her thoughts.

It was some sort of an apology, for not to listing and Wren got the feeling the banshee queen didn't apologize often. Although Wren knew her freedom wasn't to come any time soon, her heart soared, she was alive! And it seemed for a time, she was once again safe.


	3. Ten Years Later

A scout wove his was through the winding corridors of the Undercity carrying a message from Hillsbrad, now known as the sludge fields. With the crumpled piece of yellowing envelope in his bony fingers, the forsaken scout had his head held high, thinking himself a big shot for being permitted to carry such an important message to the Banshee Queen herself. Reaching the royal quarter the many guards let him through without to much difficulty till coming to the last section of the long hall where he had to wait momentarily for an audience.

To his surprise a human stood there as well. She was dressed simply in a dark leather vest and breeches and an empty bag slung across her shoulder resting beside her hip. Long corn silk blonde hair was tied with a bit of cord in the back with loose strands here and there. Her green eyes were searching him, as if every part of his rotting body had a story to tell and she already knew all the tales, coughing anxiously, he hid the fact he was uncomfortable.

"Who are you?" He snapped harshly hoping the noise would bring him out of her jade gaze.

She bowed slightly, almost mockingly those her eyes never leaving him. "My name is Wren, I serve the dark lady."

The scout nodded, slightly relived, so this was the human the banshee queen had captured all those years ago. He felt a little better knowing she was only a slave no matter how uncomfortable she made him feel. "Be gone, slave. Better yet tell your mistress that I have important news from the Sludge Fields."

Wren nodded scurrying off, though the scout failed to see her smile as she departed.

Soon after, the doors to the royal court opened reveling the dark ladies dais and throne. Sylvanas sat in her high backed throne made to look like bones formed its frame, two skulls of Worgen rested on each end of the arm rests and what looked to be black sackcloth halfway covering the back. The scout kneeled, humbled and awed by his queen, holding out the message reverently. "My lady, important news from the sludge fields."

Sylvanas took the letter but didn't open it; she held it gingerly questioning the scout. "Do you know what happened first hand?"

"I do." He nodded eager to gossip. "Warden Stillwater took control of the fields holding apothecary Lydon prisoner. He made false reports to deliver to you, to inform you of the experiments he was doing on the workers. Luckily some adventurers stopped by and help sort out the whole mess. Long story short, Stillwater is dead and all is in order again."

Sylvanas held her emotions in check well, her face showed nothing of the fury that sparked in her heart. She nodded to the scout. "Thank you, I will see you are well rewarded for your timely message."

The oblivious scout beamed bowing over and over till he departed out of the court leaving an angry queen behind. Sylvanas open the frayed envelope as Wren materialized out of a secret door adjacent to the throne room. Her footsteps were silent as a shadow as she came to stand by Sylvanas' side quietly as the banshee queen read over the news.

"Wren." She finally spoke after long minutes of silence.

"Yes, mistress."

The dark lady didn't look up to her, but kept perusing the letter, questioning the girl. "What do you think about all this?"

Wren glared at the door where the scout had departed with hate. "He has a big mouth. Word will spread if he is not dispatched with soon."

Sylvanas smiled slightly. "My thoughts exactly."

"Orders, mistress?"

She waved a hand impatiently at Wrens direction. "Make sure he doesn't reach Silver pine."

Wren nodded, smiling. "My pleasure, mistress."

Ever since Sylvanas and Wren had arrived back at the Undercity, those long years ago, the dark lady had commissioned her death stalkers to train the human in the art of assassination. She had personally taught the girl, the art of the bow and daggers, making her nearly on par with the dark lady's expertise but that experience had come with a hefty price. The constant knowledge Sylvanas could kill her at any given moment if she thought Wren was up to no good behind her back. A brand of the Dark Lady's insignia, was seared into her left arm containing harmful magic's that the Dark Lady could activate with a mere thought. Wren usually had it covered and it rarely bothered her unless Sylvanas would send an uncomfortable pain every once and a while to remind Wren she was ever vigilant for a traitorous move.

~8~8~

The assassin was back in an hour with no hint that she had been up to anything dastardly, not even a spec of gore upon her black clothing, clean and quick as always. Sylvanas had adjourned to her private study; she sat at her desk, writing when Wren stalked in. She looked at the human who only nodded.

"I assume our little scout friend ran into some trouble on the way home?"

Wren smiled pouring two glasses of brandy, handing one to Sylvanas. "The bats have gotten more aggressive with the turmoil in the land."

Sylvanas chuckled slightly. "So where did you hide the body?"

"That depends." Wren shrugged. "After I carved him up, the ravenous dogs were all to willing to help me dispose of him, he's probably scattered halfway across Tirisfal by now."

Sylvanas laughed, a rare thing, the harsh notes rising in the cold dry air. "I bless the day Captain Muller captured you. You are worth your weight in gold, my little Wren." The banshee queen lifted her glass in a toast before draining it.

Wren fought down a knot of bile and anger building in her at the remark, but her face dare not show a hint of her fury.

Sylvanas sighed setting back at the desk and re-opening the letter. "This is a whole can of worms that didn't have to be opened. That fool Stillwater, curse his name, it seems every scientist I give an assignment to ends up trying to bring this world to its knees. What was he thinking? This is a catastrophe I will have to go there myself; Fel only knows that that ogre headed buffoon of a Warchief will hound me day and night about my little trip." Shaking her head, while rubbing her temples, she turned to Wren. "Sing, my little Wren, perhaps it will soothe my frayed nerves."

The human nodded, going into a song of the sea and the wind, simple, yet tranquil with notes so smooth it would put even the most stressed person at ease. When she had finished, Sylvanas sighed again, this time lighter, her shoulders slumped slightly.

"Your voice is still as pretty as the first time I heard it."

Wren nodded though she frowned, she hated singing for Sylvanas and a part of her believed the Dark Lady knew it as well. "Thank you, mistress." She sat down, looking at the banshee queen. "But perhaps there is a different option for your problem in Hillsbrad, with all those idiots coming to the Undercity to look for 'fame and glory' let them go keep an eye on the fields. That way you won't draw to much suspicion from that ass Garrosh."

She folded her hands together nodding to the human. "Not a bad idea, but I'm going to have to offer them something other than fame and glory."

"They never pass up a few silver coins." Wren added with a faint smile.

Sylvanas chuckled. "True enough. Very well, Wren we will see how this plans works out."

~8~8~

Late, after her plan had been well thought through, Wren strolled to her own private chambers remembering the shocked post mortem look on the scouts face as she had ran her dagger through his throat. She smiled wickedly, allowing herself a slight chuckle, she always did like it when people found out she was more than a 'simple slave' but by then it was always to late.

As she arrived to her chamber the door was slightly ajar showing entry, oddly non forced, but that didn't bother Wren, in fact she smiled again but not evilly more in anticipation. The room was small but well equipped with a bed, chests, dresser, and the fireplace had been lit, and the place didn't smell like corpses or chemicals, a private sanctuary if there ever was one. A frightened human male lay tied up in the middle of her bed, his hands bound tightly behind him with a rope around his neck signaling if he tried to roll away he'd be choked to death. He was sweating and struggling, but that did nothing to diminish the fact that he was handsome, short black hair hanging shaggily around his forehead, scruffy beard, and a body strapping with muscles, telling this man had probably been a farmer or soldier. Sylvanas always made sure Wren was given the best of the prisoners. Wren chuckled slightly it seemed Sylvanas thought her actions warranted a reward.

At fist the man looked to her in fright which quickly turned to curiosity as he watched the woman take off her daggers, and lay them down on the dresser, telling him she wasn't here to hurt him. She walked over to him, her hips swaying seductively, as she neared a gentle yet steady hand laid him flat on the bed, her body just hovering over his own in the most sultry, eager way. His gaze was everywhere at once, confusion and excitement dancing in his eyes, as all of them had when they were just beginning to catch on to what they were there for.

Jerking his head so that he stared straight into Wrens eyes she spoke, her voice stern and cold yet eager as well. "Listen up, I'll be completely honest, tomorrow there going to kill you, but tonight you're all mine. So you can either enjoy this or be terrified and miserable, either way I know how to get what I want and I will take it whether you want me to or not."

The man searched her eyes in alarm, trying to find some inkling of a lie, and saw only the truth in her jade orbs.

Later that night Wren lay on her bed tired, the blanket cover her form, her flesh sated, and the man who probably just had the best night of his boring little life was being dragged back to his cell, grinning crazily from ear to ear. Wren gave a contented sigh, but it wasn't a gesture of enjoyment, just a sigh of sated lust. From the corner of her eye she noticed the strip of cloth wrapped around her arm, hiding the brand, had come loose revealing the slightly pinkish raised insignia of the dark lady that had been so cruelly seared into her flesh. She touched a finger to it tracing the patterns disdainfully while remembering the first time she had been given a reward.

Even though a little part of her hated it every time a new face would greet her in her room, disgusted with Sylvanas that she'd treated her like a pet she was giving a treat to for all its hard work, she always took the reward Sylvanas had given her, and thanked her for it in the morning. That's how it had been for the past ten years, performing better meant the better reward the more handsome and experience her rewards became with every success. After all, it was the only thing she actually had to look forward to. Wren had been so long with out the company of another living being, so long with out the acknowledgement of her hard work every day since her capture. Yes, she knew why she always took the reward, because loneliness, lust, and the thrill of having a prize after a victory always won over dignity, self respect, and disgust.

Finally unable to look at the scarred mark of ownership any longer, her thoughts torn, she stared at the dark gray and black ceiling pondering would her life always be like this, a brief flame of passion and lust before it died into an ember of loneliness once more? Wren frowned at the thought, she hoped not, for now it was just what would do, but what about something more, a true relationship? Odd as it seemed she craved one, not this lust driven passion she was used to at all, no it was to impersonal. A pang of guilt ran down Wren's spine as she looked to the door, the man she had just been with would be dead in probably an hour an she didn't even no his name. But then, she reminded herself coldly, there would always be others, and she should be thankful she wasn't the one being dragged into a room as a reward before getting killed. It was only a matter of survival of course.


	4. Enter Thalos Sunstrike

_A/N- Thanks for all the review. I am brinign in two new character Thalos, a paladin, and Erkmund, a rogue/inn keeper. Read and Review!_

_~8~8~_

The thick rawhides ropes that connected the huge balloon to the ship like zeppelin, aptly named the 'Desperate Prayer' groaned with strain as the sturdy floating dirigible finally made port at the tall haunted looking docks of Tirisfal Glade. Horde coming from Durotar scrambled madly to get off the zeppelin, pushing one another to be away from the horror ride they had been pressed through for weeks with the tiny green arsonist known as goblins. Thalos Sunstrike walked off the zeppelin ramp, slowly surveying the surrounding of Tirisfal glade; it was a dismal land if he had ever seen one. The elf sighed, scratching his hairless chin thoughtfully. "Well, it's not much Thalos, but it's a change of scenery."

Thalos was your average elf, onyx hair was cropped short in a fashionable yet military like style, hard jade eyes were always on the look out for trouble. Heavy plate armor and a libram were stowed carefully in the pack on his back, which he shouldered with ease. He was a Blood Knight, or had been at one time, but many weeks ago he had petitioned for retirement and it had been granted. Now, the paladin found himself, traveling here and there, taking little jobs, unable to soothe his wandering way he'd been so used to in the Blood Knight ranks. He shouldered his claymore, whistling a tune to combat the dread that permeated into everything as he headed to the Undercity.

The rubble and broken plague containers, littering the above court yard, had still not been moved since the last time he had been here saving this blasted city after the Dread Lord Varimatheras' betrayal to the Horde. Walking to the elevators the orc guards barely acknowledged him, and those who did scowled at him suspiciously they didn't trust anyone who came to the Undercity without good reason. Glaring icily he shouldered past them, and into the stained gore elevators. Finally in the belly of the city, it was unusually active for a city of the dead, Horde of all races were walking about, buying goods, talking, or making orders at the bank. It seemed people who couldn't stand the strict ways of Orgrimmar were traveling to the Undercity for a more lenient way of life and business.

"Excuse me." He called out stopping a forsaken woman selling mushrooms. "Where may I find Erkmund's inn?"

"A few blocks from here." She replied in a dry hoarse monotone pointing a bony finger in the direction.

With a word of thanks, he walked off smiling widely, it would be good to see his old friend once more.

The inn was more like a crack in the wall, having no door, but a wide room in the back showing tables and a few walk ways that led to private rooms. The inn keeper was a friendly look forsaken wearing a faded white apron bustling around to serve the rest of his patrons. To anyone else he would seem like your average harmless innkeeper, but Thalos knew better.

"No time to stop and say hello to an old friend Erkmund?" Thalos laughed waving to the innkeeper.

The innkeeper turned suddenly in surprise before smiling as warmly as an undead could. Wiping his hand on his apron, beckoning to the blood elf. "Thalos, my dear friend. It's been a while since our Zul'aman days!"

"That it has." Thalos nodded giving a friendly slap on the back to the former soldier.

He still couldn't believe a wealthy, powerful rogue had given up his life of adventure and vigor for running an inn, but each to his own he supposed. The Forsaken took a seat, beckoning a waiter to bring to ales. "So what brings you to our lovely town."

Thalos sat back in his seat drinking the warm ale. "You know me, Erkmund, can't stay in one place for to long. I retired, but I'm looking for a job or two to help my depleting coin purse. Any work I could find in this place?"

Erkmund nodded. "I know just the thing. But rest tonight, on the house, Thalos, we've a lot to catch up on."

Two old friends reminisced well into the night, talking of days of old when the Horde had conscripted their skills to outland to battle the Legion and the many other adventures they'd shared their years of service.

~8~8~

The guards from the royal quarter snickered at Thalos as he walked down the long corridors leading to the royal court. The forsaken loved their dark lady who technically was an elf, but any living elves got nothing but ridicule. Thalos ignored the quiet mocking behind his back and the softly spoken derogatory frilly elf names as he made his way deeper into the royal quarter. At the end of the hall two guards blocked his path, their voice holding endless amounts of scorn. "The dark lady is busy, you'll have to wait."

"Fine." He held up his hands disparagingly, setting down to wait for an audience.

The guards looked to one another then departed to the inside of the royal chamber, not even wishing to be seen standing beside him leaving the elf alone on the outside.

Wren walked down the corridor some time later, arms laden with items Sylvanas had tasked to bring her. Ten years had passed and despite being an expert assassin, some how Sylvanas always made her perform the most mundane of tasks. Perhaps to remind Wren of her less than humble beginnings as nothing but an errand girl. When she saw the double door closed she sighed fighting off a wave of agitation and mumbling curses, Sylvanas was in a meeting she'd have to wait. Dropping the sack down from in front of her, she never saw Thalos as she sat directly on him.

Wren gave a gasp of shock springing up her muscles instinctually tensing in reflex of an attack. The elf looked at her in surprise, having in the long wait drifted off to sleep. What was a human doing in the Undercity? The guards hadn't alerted or attack her, so they must be acquainted with her presence. It was the only reasonable explanation he could formulate at the moment. Wren looked at the elf, his hair was black as midnight, green eyes like hers stared at her in curiosity. After living in a city with nothing more than undead and sometimes the prisoners brought to her, he looked stunning to the human.

"My apologies, elf." She stuttered.

He knelt to help pick up the items that had tumbled away. "Think nothing of it."

Neither looked at the other as they hurriedly snatched the items up to replace back in the bags. The awkward silence that came after echoed louder than the quiet. The only thing left to do was wait outside the door, and still neither looking at the other. Thalos took a deep breath swallowing hard. "So, um…My name is Thalos Sunstrike. Nice to meet you…" He held his hand out to her.

Wren looked at it cautiously then shook. "Wren."

Again the silence. Thalos coughed awkwardly fingering the horde tabard over his breastplate. "Are you lost, by any chance?"

He cringed, at his own stupid statement and she smiled amused. "No."

Thalos turned to look at her fully, she was beautiful, and there was mysteriousness behind her eyes that made his blood hum. "That could only mean you are a slave. Are you?"

"Yes." She admitted freely.

"Whose?"

The doors opened and the dark lady sat gingerly in her chair. Wren smiled nudging her head to the banshee queen ever so slightly. "I'll give you one guess."

Before he could say anything else, she walked forward giving Sylvanas a bow. "Mistress, this is Thalos Sunstrike. I assume he has been waiting quite awhile for an audience."

The banshee queen looked over Wren towards the blood elf who saluted her sharply. "Very well, Wren, leave us."

Thalos watched the human leave, for a moment even forgetting he was in the presence of the dark lady.

"Let me make an educated guess, sir Sunstrike, you come to help with my scouting mission." She stated suddenly.

He only answered with a nod, standing to attention with a strict military grace.

"I thought so." She hid a coy smile, applauding Wren for her brilliant plan. "Are you familiar with a place called the Sludge Fields…"

~8~8~

A week of Fel went by for the blood elf, his mind drifted almost always to the human in the Undercity when he wasn't fighting or snooping around for the banshee queen. She had captivated him so like an enchantress who enthralls their prey. He could see her vividly every time he closed his eyes, when he had a chance to close his eyes of course. And now he was back, armor tarnished and dinged, smelling of science chemicals, sweat, and death. And again forced to wait at the massive double doors before the banshee queen could permit him an audience. He didn't mind the wait this time, actually hoping of seeing Wren again. In fact, he made a quick prayer to the Light hoping he could but catch a glimpse of the slave.

The double doors opened and the human slid out to the corridor nearly unnoticed.

"Wren." He said suddenly as if she would just disappear from his presence.

She turned to him, her face looking as is she was working over a memory of who he was, but knew him immediately. She was simply surprised he had remember her name, or was even given her a second thought knowing she was a slave. "Ah, Thalos, isn't it?"

His heart pounded, she had remembered his name! He nodded. "Yea, I didn't know if you would remember me." Struggling to reach his pack rooting through vials, metals, food, water, heads, and other odd things until he pulled out a carefully preserved wild steel bloom flower, handing it to her.

Thalos smiled at her surprised features. "I found it before I left the Sludge Fields. No offence it doesn't look like you get out all that often. I thought you might like it."

She took the golden flower with shaking hand, holding it close to her. "Thank you kindly, elf."

"Please." He grinned. "Call me Thalos."

"Well then thank you, Thalos." Wren nodded, as the doors to the royal chamber were opened.

"The banshee queen will see you now." A guard rasped in annoyance.

By the time he turned back around, Wren had disappeared.

"You would keep the dark lady waiting." The guard growled dangerously.

Thalos shook his head straightening himself as he went to inform Sylvanas of the situation in the Sludge Fields progress.

Had he had time to take a better look around he known Wren hadn't gone far, only a few feet away, her back pressing against a stone column that hid her. The flower had five petals, each the perfect color of gold. There was a freshness and cleanliness to it as she sniffed it. She rolled the stem in-between her fingers wondering what to make of the surprising gift.

~8~8~

Sylvanas strolled to her private study in a rare good mood, today had gone modestly well. By the paladins reports the Sludge fields were back in order, with the apothecary Lydon overseeing its workings. As she entered the study Wren was humming quietly to herself almost whimsically. She stopped when Sylvanas walked in.

"Mistress." Wren nodded, her tones neutral.

The banshee queen rested down looking at the human who seemed half distracted. "That elf gave you something before I let him in. What was it, little Wren?"

The assassin did nothing to hide her shock. "How did you…"

"I know everything that transpires in my court." The banshee queen replied with slight smirk.

Wren tilted her head back down, busy selecting a particular kind of liquor. Her mind whirling, should she just lie or come out with it. The girl remained silent for so long Sylvanas arched an eyebrow. "Speak." She ordered.

"It was a flower. Wild steel bloom to be exact, mistress." She replied lowly, involuntarily blushing. To show she was being truthful, Wren lifted up a lock of hair revealing the bright yellow flower carefully tucked behind her ear.

The banshee queen did well to hide her surprise. So the elf had taken an interest in Wren. She wondered just how much interest Wren had taken in him. "He does know you are my slave, doesn't he?"

She bristled. "No he thinks I'm here on vacation." Wren sighed sarcastically. She had long ago figured out just how far she could toe the line with Sylvanas' temper and knew she was pushing her luck. But for some reason, the banshee queen's question had put her on the defensive and she wasn't exactly sure why.

To Wren's surprise the dark lady let the remark slide, leaning back in her chair slyly. Sylvanas gauged the human's reaction with a skilled eye, so she did have an interest in the elf as well. He would be useful in his own little way. Let Wren have her little infatuation with him, the dark lady knew well from experience Wren, preformed her duties much better when there was something to look forward to as a reward,

"Do you like him?" Sylvanas half teased with the question.

Wren was stunned by the question, never in a million years would the human think the dark lady was open to girl talk! "With all due respect, mistress. I think I should keep those thoughts to myself. It may not seem proper a mistress take such interest in a slave's social life." Wren tactfully countered.

Sylvanas laughed. "Proper or not, it amuses me to see you go all nervous and bumbling like the first time I found you, over an elf at that."

Wren swallowed trying hard to control her whirling emotions, and failing. "At least I have someone to bumble over." She retorted angrily.

In an instant Sylvanas was standing inches from Wren, her blade was at her throat. The assassin had far crossed the line with that little outburst but at the moment didn't care. The blade drew a drop of blood running down its side onto the handle. Wren stared at the banshee queen fearlessly, basking in her wrath.

"Never say something like that to me again, slave." Sylvanas snarled dangerously eyes narrowed. "Be grateful I am in a humorous mood, and wont have you punished for that little outburst."

Wren had a dagger tucked into the back of her leather jerkin but knew Sylvanas could slit her throat long before she could even move for it. Swallowing her pride, Wren did her best to nod, "Forgive me mistress, I lost my temper." She didn't sound sorry at all but it's what would keep her alive and free of the curses pain, which Sylvanas could activate at will, for the time being.

The banshee queen held the blade a moment longer, as if deciding just to do away with the human for good. She backed up, tucking the blade back into its sheath. "Remember Wren, your guile helped you live, but your smart tongue will be the death of you." Sylvanas shooed her flippantly. "Be gone, you're dismissed for the night. Get a good nights rest, I have a scouting mission for you tomorrow."

Wren was more than happy to leave without a sound, cursing the dark lady under her breath, what did that rotting hag no anyway! How dare she bring him up, it was none of her business. Wren was still fuming as she made her way to her quarters, her mind torn between Sylvanas' inappropriateness and thinking of Thalos.


	5. Hell On the Heart

He had seen her again, that gorgeous human. Thalos couldn't get that surprised pleased look she had given him out of his mind. He had to see her again, even if it meant having to wait everyday at the court doors if but to catch a glimpse of her. Of course, he knew it was only wistful dreaming but still, with a woman like that it wasn't far from implausible. He walked seemingly oblivious to everything around him, taking no notice of the throngs that ebbed and flowed around him like one loud river of smelly, sweaty bodies, his thoughts completely focused on the slave girl. Then, like an angel from heaven, he saw her. She was garbed all in black, a satchel over her shoulder. With a curious eye he watched her speak to a forsaken all in black like herself and make way for the commons. A part of Thalos told him this was wrong. Wren was a slave, Sylvanas Windrunner's slave at that, he couldn't go and talk to her when he pleased, or interrupt whatever she was doing for her mistress. But still…

"Wren." He spoke her name suddenly a hand out hailing her.

She turned around to face him and he swore he saw a glimmer of a smile play past her lips. He strode, well mostly walked unceremoniously fast, to close the distance between them. There was a huge smile etching his face, he couldn't help it when she was near. "Am I interrupting something important you're supposed to be doing?" He asked cautiously not wanting to land her in trouble for tardiness with her mistress.

_Is it just me or does he get more handsome every time I see him?_ Wren thought to herself, half serious half amused at the thought that once again he'd managed to spot her out.

Although she would never admit it aloud his attention was flattering. Many times she'd be brushed off by everyone around her, she was only a slave of course, and they need not concern themselves with someone who was stupid or weak enough to get captured or sold away.

"Nothing too important." She finally replied. "Just running an errand." Well it was mostly the truth. Wren nudged her head slightly to the huge over hang that lead to the circular commons of the city. "I am heading to the elevators. We'll talk as we walk."

The pair walked through the bustling streets of the dead, barely noticed even though it was an odd sight to see a human and blood elf walking together, obviously enjoying one another's company.

"So, if it's not to secretive, why are you heading for the elevators?" He asked genuinely curious, but would not be offended if she couldn't not divulge the information.

Wren patted the satchel by her side, a slight smile coming to her face. "I am going to deliver a message to the Forsaken front."

"By yourself?" Thalos asked astounded. "But that place is crawling with Worgen, if they spot you you'll be ripped to shreds."

Wren fought the urge to bark out a disbelieving laugh, but it wasn't his fault. He, along with many, didn't know what she could do. Instead she shrugged. "My mistress believes I'll have a better chance of survival if they see a human from afar and not a forsaken. Besides I am only a slave, easily replaced, there is no real loss if I perish."

Thalos couldn't help but feel a slight tug of anger at her last words at the thought of people treating her as if she were a cheap toy, easily broken and forgotten. He crossed his arms and gave a derisive snort as they stopped at the elevators that lead to the ruins. "I don't think you would be easily replaced, a life is a life in my book. And I don't like the fact that you're going alone with out so much as a guardian."

It was odd, and the strangest of times and places, but Wren suddenly realized that was the only time in her life someone had expressed concern for her. An elf who she barely knew was concerned about her well being. But why, what did he have to gain for being concerned?

"Wren?" Thalos called her name tentatively, her brow was slightly furrowed and there was a confusing expression on her face. "Wren." he called her name again and this time was rewarded with a hint of recognition.

She shook her head slightly as if abandoning a thought, her mind once more on track. "I'm sorry what?"

"The elevators here." He held out a hand to the open door, his tone amused.

"Oh…um yes, well thank you." Wren offered the paladin a small bow before entering. She was surprised when he entered after her.

Thalos stood a respectable distance away, his hands folded behind him, but there was a cunning smile on his face. "As a Blood Knight, it's only honorable of me to at least see you to the Silverpine border, milady." He clarified, seeing the confusion on her face.

Before Wren could protest the thick gray elevators door slammed down with a resounding bang, and the faint hum of magic that made the elevators run echoed through the compartment.

"I…I don't have the authority to pay you for your protection." Wren's tone surprised, and her cunning mind whirling how she might ditch the paladin.

This wasn't exactly a message delivery of course, it was a scouting mission that would take week or more and if he decided to accompany her further than the border, there would be trouble. Sylvanas always gave her strict orders who could know about what she really did. And those who weren't supposed to know…Wren banished the thought as soon as it entered.

"I don't want payment." Thalos replied just as the elevator slowed it ascent to the ruins. The door grated open slowly, revealing the upper half of the Undercity as it were. "It's an honorable and courteous act."

_Why are you trying so hard to fight this, Wren? You can ditch him easily, even if he decides to go further than the border. _She thought to herself contemplating. Why was she trying so hard to fight his presence? "Alright." She replied finally. "But just to the border, you promise. The last thing I need is to go back to my mistress and explain why the paladin who sometimes goes on missions for her is disemboweled across Silverpine."

He smiled faintly, slightly tilting his head. "Very well. That will at least give me three hours in your lovely company."

Wren was thankful of the darkness in the old court hid her blush that spread like wildfire across her cheeks. Flirting was a new experience that made her want to break out in a fit of giggles for no particular reason at all.

The dusk was cool as they stepped out into the weed ridden cobblestone road that lead to Silverpine. The ever gloomy surrounding had its own unique charm, like a somber day in a graveyard as many would term it. Peaceful as it were. The more, 'calm' plague ridden beasts of the area, wandered about the sides of the path, but left the two travelers alone to talk. And talk they did!

Wren learned Thalos had been a paladin for 122 years. That was still a young age for an elf, and Wren was surprised he'd retired in the prime of life almost, but she never brought the question up. No need to ruin a good conversation. Thalos had been to outland and even Northrend where he was a soldier with the Kor'kron Vanguard who had assaulted Icecrown Citadel. He had witnessed the Lich Kings fall personally.

"And what of you, Wren?" Thalos asked as he finished his tale. He could almost see the top of the gate way that lead to Silverpine and almost ashamedly admitted he'd talked most of the way.

She shrugged, adjusting the pack across her shoulders. "My life?" She chuckled. "Nothing very interesting I'm afraid. Nothing…important."

It was a guarded statement if Thalos had ever heard one, but he did not pursue the questioning, it might dredge up memories she didn't want to remember. Memories before slavery of a family, and freedom, perhaps even a love. The last thing he wanted was for her to acknowledge once more it was the Horde who had enslaved her.

"Well, it must be nice to have some time to get away from the Undercity. Silverpine has its own dangerous beauty a very nice place to visit under the right circumstances."

Wren nodded, hiding a smile. "Silverpine is where I was captured."

Had one been able to read mind they would be stunned at the language Thalos used against himself. The paladin had gone flush with embarrassment. "Oh. I-I'm terribly sorry for mentioning…" He didn't even want to say the name of the accursed place now.

His incomprehensible stuttering was halted at his lips as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her smile faint. "Don't apologize, it is what it is." She sighed, losing her smile that transformed into a reflective frown.

The warmth of a hand on her own startled her from the dire thoughts that that had slunk into her mind. Thalos placed his hand over her own, squeezing only slightly. Wren's first instinct was to withdraw, but she did not. With his touch brought a surge of feelings, happiness, anger, rebellion, all against her overriding emotion of survival.

Thalos had only known her for a few hours but he felt her emotions vying for control as if he could see them dueling for dominance right in front of him. A low dangerous growl ruined the moment and both human and elf looked up to find no less than six Worgen loping in their direction. Dirt and grass was flung high into the air as the Worgen's claws shredded the ground, at their dead run. Spittle and foam flecked their glistening sharp fangs and hackles bared told they meant serious business. Eyes were red and bloodshot, pupils dilated to only pinpricks of black they let out blood chilling howls to the air.

Wren forced herself not to slide her hands down to her daggers, telling herself she needed to keep up the guise with Thalos. The elf stood in front of Wren protectively, his arms upraised in a fighting position.

"Run, Wren, I'll hold them off." He stated with out looking back. His muscles tensed for action just as the first Worgen leapt off the ground claws bared like large knives. Thalos dove to the ground, turning his fall into a forward roll so that the Worgen went sailing past him. He was up to his feet immediately turning to face the Worgen. A hand grabbed the beast man by the scruff of the neck flinging him safely away from Wren. Another came on this time scoring a hit upon Thalos' back. The paladin gave a grunt of pain as the razor sharp claws tore threw the chain mail shirt he wore like silk and ripped into his lower back, rending his flesh. He could feel the warmth of blood dribbling down his back, but lunged his body backwards taking the Worgen off guard. In mere moments he was turned around effectively straddling the Worgen and landing several critical punches to the stunned beast.

Had Thalos been more attentive he would have seen Wren was not simply standing there doing nothing. Out of the six, four had followed the assassin as she ran into a copse of thick pines. She feigned terror, stumbling and plunging dangerously close to falling, making the Worgen speed up in hopes of ripping her to shreds. As she hit the tree line however, she disappeared, camouflaging perfectly with the black and brown streaks of bark. She heard all the Worgen run past her and smiled all the while silently drawing her daggers.

"That traitor couldn't have gone far." The first Worgen growled, his huge gray muzzle sniffing the air for any trace of her.

The Worgen obviously had no sense of battle formation being that they were scattered helter-skelter along the trees. Easy pickings for Wren. The closest one, a female, was on all fours searching keenly for tracks. Her only notice that Wren was even standing behind her was a shadow of a human before two razor sharp dagger sunk silently into its neck. The next Worgen was a trifle more vigilant as he eyes were never still, he was nervous and with good reason. A thin sharp rope suddenly found its way around his neck, severing his windpipe and esophagus but not before he let a short yip of terror.

The two remaining Worgen turned to find both comrades dead, and the traitor easily twirling her two daggers. "You really should have gone for the elf." She spoke common winking cheekily at them.

The two Worgen casts each other glances, both reading the others thoughts silently. Then with a near communal howl they both charged on either side of her. Wren had expected this move and didn't move an inch. Right as they were near here, at the last moment she dodged their swings simultaneously, while throwing down a thick gray cloud of mist, and was reward with the sick sound of teeth and claws as the Worgen mauled each other.

Wren couldn't help but chuckle as the thick smoke thinned into nothing but a few wisps that drifted off. The Worgen had mauled one another to death.

"Yes." Wren said again shaking her head. "You should have gone for the elf."

Elf…

Thalos!

Suddenly he was not just 'elf' anymore he was Thalos the paladin who had given her wild steel bloom, who had so graciously thought to see her safe passage to the border. He was suddenly no more a thing that would simply serve her purpose but someone who had helped protect her, and was probably hurt.

The glory of her cunning kill was no more as the assassin began breaking out into a sweat. "Thalos!" She called for him running out of the glade. "Thalos!" This time more panicked.

"Wren!" The voice was strong but thickly laced with pain.

She ran toward the direction praying whatever had happened the Worgen hadn't bitten him. He was resting at the base of a towering pine, two Worgen both with broken necks lay close by. Chain mail rings lay scattered about, many covered with blood but Wren couldn't see a place where his armor had broken in the front, so it must have been his back. He smiled at her, casting a caviler wink then wincing as he tried to move. "I'm all right. That beast to your left gave me a hell of a beauty mark but I managed to heal it up, just hurts is all. Give me a moment to rest." He looked around suddenly suspicious. "What happened to the rest of the Worgen?"

"They ran off." Wren replied without hesitation, "After they saw you break the other Worgen's neck they decided they didn't want a tussle and headed back."

"Just as well." Thalos grunted as he strove to sit up but only managed to scrape the wound against the rough bark causing him to cry out in pain. "I don't think I could have taken them all." He hissed through grit teeth.

Unsholdering her pack, Wren flung it to the ground carelessly, running to the injured paladin. Putting a hand on his back, she guided him to lay flat on the ground. "You're not a paladin of the Light, you cant heal worth Kodo droppings. I know a salve that will ease the pain just give me a little time to make it."

While he was on his stomach, Thalos didn't know what she was doing, all he could go by was hearing and that wasn't much as the woman walked like a cat's shadow! At one point he only knew she had returned by a gritty paste substance being carefully smeared across the wound.

"This will help that pain go away and aid with the healing." She informed him just as she finished rubbing it in.

Already he could feel the surrounding area numbing and felt good enough to turn around, which he did. Now that his wound was on the mend and the danger past, Thalos couldn't help but smile. "Just a regular day as a messenger's protector." He joked, adding a bit of a laugh.

Wren had to laugh, at his corniness. "The perhaps, sir paladin you should seek safer employment."

Thalos suddenly sobered, but did not lose his grin, a hand wandered to Wrens own, taking grasp. "But it's the job I love the most."

Wren felt the fire of passion spark up inside her belly shooting like arrows through every part of her body. It was a reaction she couldn't help. There had just been a decent victory, her blood still humming with battle lust, and the thrill of the kill. It was only because Thalos was in pain she probably hadn't jumped on him when she had first come back. The actions that had been ingrained into her for ten years reared up on primal instinct. She wanted her reward.

Even though placing his hands on her had only been meant as a friendly gesture, Thalos wasn't completely surprised when her body moved over his. There was an intense look in her emerald orbs, telling, screaming what she wanted.

Tentatively his other hand reached up, fingers just slightly brushing against her neck before disappearing into her amber honey hair. It felt like silk slipping between his fingers as he trailed them slowly upward till his hand rested against the back of her skull, gently pressing her to his lips. He'd never had things move so fast in all his years of living. Even in the service, where soldiers knew relationships had to be swift and many a time end painfully in death or separation of war bands, things had never moved so quickly. But still he felt if things were moving in slow motion, the way her eyes took forever to meet his own, and how they glimmered! Dancing even as they searched him, as if reading for the same emotions that were bubbling up inside. Thalos did nothing to hide his own emotions.

~8~8~

It was extremely late before Thalos returned to the Undercity, a few people cast him odd glances as he limped into the inn, his friend Erkmund among them.

"What in the nether happened to you, Thalos?" The inn keeper asked, as he helped his friend to a chair.

His mail undershirt was a wreak in the back, he was limping terribly, and there was the largest grin plastered to his blood stained face. Thalos turned to stare at the banked fire in the huge fireplace the inn had, his eyes seemingly distant and at another place entirely. "Much has happened, my friend." He finally replied, then added lower. "So, so much."

Having no time just yet to question his cryptic friend Erkmund had a mug of ale brought over then scurried off promising Thalos he would talk, but the elf barely heard him, he was fancying a deep, confusing prospect. He was in love.

~8~8~

Nearly to the crumbled walls of Gilneas, Wren over looked the rolling country side from a far away hill. Little camp fires dotted the landscape either of Horde or Alliance make, but it was impossible to know which.

With a sigh, a true, happy satisfactory sigh, Wren dug into her satchel finding the book where she would keep her notes on the mission. At the first page she turned to she was met with a pressed steel bloom flower and couldn't help but smile. Thalos. Sobering immediately, she closed the book, steeling herself. She couldn't have her mind wandering interrupting her mission, and besides, the quicker she was done, the quicker she could hopefully catch Thalos again. Then maybe she could figure out what was this strange new emotion come to wreak havoc in her heart.


	6. Dancing To Your Tune

Wren came back a week later from her scouting, tired and sore, but victorious in her mission. The Alliance was indeed planning a war for silver pine, forces and supplies were being slipped into Gilneas with as much stealth as possible. Wandering Worgen were looking more and more like properly trained troops. There was an air about the entire city that echoed war and a fierce determination to retake their city from the hands of the dreaded Banshee Queen.

The Dark Lady was sitting in a burgundy leather arm chair, legs crossed and arms folded together. The room was dark save for the fire place flickering cheerfully, casting odd shadows against the room. Sylvanas stared into the crackling hearth before her, her sanguine eyes glimmering like twin pools of blood. As Wren entered the royal private study, the dark lady did nothing to tear her gaze away from the flames, but did acknowledge the humans presence with a nod.

Wren handed the reports to the dark lady, as soon as she entered, then took a step back away from the Banshee Queen's chair, to stand in a respectful easy military fashion. Sylvanas opened the longest scroll skimming over the information quickly: Formations, strategies, number of troops, stock, and rations. She looked up to Wren smiling slightly as perfectly manicured fingers rolled the parchment up once more, "You serve me well, Wren. This information is critical for driving those rabid dogs from my lands for good. I'm pleased."

Wren nodded but said nothing; she appeared fidgety and restless, despite the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, practically jumping for the chance for Sylvanas to dismiss her. It didn't take an apothecary to tell the dark lady why Wren was so fidgety. The Banshee Queen could read her face; she wanted to see her paladin again.

"What happened to your arm?" Sylvanas asked pointing the scrolls tip to a barely noticeable linen bandage wrapped around Wren's right arm.

Wren's eyes glanced down at the faded bandage with a grimace. It had been from the Worgen attack with Thalos, nothing more than a deep scratch, but if Sylvanas asked her there was good reason to assume she knew about the paladin and his company. With a shrug, the assassin decided to play it off. "It's nothing really, no need to concern yourself on my behalf, mistress."

Sylvanas got up from her chair then, guessing Wren's game, and gave an inward nod of approval at the cunning Wren was taking to divert her attention. Subtle, and yet not. She was standing face to face with the assassin in moments smirking at the clever ploy but not clever enough. Clutching Wren's chin tightly she tilted the humans head up moving it slightly from side to side as if inspecting her. "Concern? No, I just want to make sure my property is in top working order."

At any other time Wren would have bit back her tongue, pushed down the knot of anger and hate, and took the humiliation in stride. Instead, to Sylvanas' surprise the assassin slapped her hand away, glaring nothing but murder and hate at the Dark Lady. The dark look only lasted a moment before transforming into a picture of agony. Her body jerked as a jolt of pain ran through her. The brand on her arm was rapidly heating, and sending surges of steady pain through her. With a terrible cry she fell to her knees, whole body wracking with torture.

All the while Sylvanas stood there coolly detached, as if a mere spectator of some gory, violent scene of a nameless abuser. She leaned against her arm chair, arms folded staring in satisfaction. "Rebellion." She stated chuckling. "My I thought that had died away in you years ago. Bravo, Wren, after all this time you still manage to surprise me."

Wren was gasping desperately for breath now, she could feel the air being sucked out of her lungs but no matter how much she inhaled it was never enough like a balloon with a hole in it. Panic began to seep in with the pain, thoughts of dying the most terrible ways flashed in her head, drowning, burning, crushed, eaten alive, all felt like they were happening at once. Through her terror, miraculously she got her mouth to form a few desperate words. "No more…stop I beg you…please." They were more ragged gasps than formed words but the perfect hearing of the Dark Lady picked them up with out to much trouble.

Sylvanas let the pain go on a moment longer, setting in a little more panic into the humans mind, was she truly though with her this time? It was undoubtedly the question frantically running through the assassins head as the walls were just being to close around her. A moment later the pain dissipated leaving only a few stinging after effects. Wren was shaking badly, her body dripping with the sweat of terror her whole body was bent forward coughing and gasping but sounding like she would vomit at any moment. She held her throat as if some invisible hand had been there choking her senseless.

"You will behave now?" Sylvanas asked casually, her eyes searching the kneeling assassin with a curious eye, but there was no denying the threat under the tactful carelessly spoken words. "Or must I punish you again?"

Wren looked up to face the Dark Lady, and Sylvanas was satisfied to see survival had taken control over her riotous emotions once more. "I will behave…" The words were quiet, and sounded as if she were defeated but that was never the case, she was merely masking herself as always.

Sylvanas chuckled slightly, going to retake a seat. "I wish that was a permanent statement. I dont like punishing you, you know."

Feeling exhausted, Wren found her legs could support her, and stood up shakily. Although her knees wobbled, she was more or less steady.

Sylvanas almost chuckled eyeing the weary slave, "Now that that unpleasantness is over you can move on to more enjoyable ventures. Even with your little act of defiance, I am still pleased by what you managed to gather for me. You've earned your reward, and being that I am in such a generous, forgiving mood, you may go and seek your little paladin out."

A muscle jerked slightly in Wren's face one of surprise at the generous act, it was uncommon for Sylvanas to do so. Usually after a stunt she'd so stupidly pulled, she'd be in rigorous retraining and missions for weeks, denied rewards and small comforts that made her life livable in the Undercity. She tactfully covered her emotions behind a wall of neutral features offering Sylvanas a stiff, formal bow. "Thank you, mistress." She just barely managed to get the hated words past her lips with out a venomous hiss, and left out the door.

It took Sylvanas only a mere second later to realize, the slave girl had never answered her question. She had been outsmarted by a bold move on Wren's part knowing Sylvanas was likely to forget about the question in the interim of her punishment, and although a part of her was angry most of her applauded Wren's guile. The Dark Lady took another scroll in her hands, a faint smirk drawing across her pale lips. "Well played, Wren." She muttered into the dim room. "Very well played."

Somewhere far away in the back of Wren's head, as she walked through the dark and dank corridors of the royal court, told her this was wrong to make him no more than a treat for her hungering heart. It was an inkling of self respect come back into her, but the thought of seeing Thalos again! She could almost imagine his smile and couldn't help but smile herself as she exited the royal quarter, and as Sylvanas had put it, to search out her little paladin.

~8~ 8~

"That's 500 sprigs of mistletoe all accounted for," A banker stated to the forsaken in front of Thalos at the Undercity counting house.

The paladin used every trick he had known to control his temper at the long wait. Who in their right mind let people deposit mistletoe in a bank!

"Next!" The teller called out.

Thalos opened his coin purse counting a hefty sum in gold to deposit. His travels and auction deals had been good to him that week, though he had spent most of his time thinking about the dark ladies servant. He hadn't seen her in a week, and found himself at the temple of the light praying fervently for her safe return. A hand tapped him on his back, his shoulders sunk in relief, and he spun around, a smile coming to his lip, "Well speak of the nether."

He got no further; she leapt to him wrapping her arms around his neck their lips meeting instantly. How wonderful it felt to have her entangled in his arms again, the taste of her lips lingering like the sweetest of mana. They separated for a moment breathing heavily; Thalos wrapped his arms around her middle kissing her again, "I must say all this for saving you from a bunch of dog men was well worth it."

"Indeed," She smiled, kissing his jaw line.

Thalos couldn't help but notice her urgency and wondered why she was so 'eager' to see him.

"Hey, take it somewhere else elf, this is a bank not a brothel," The teller spat shutting his banking window with a loud clack.

Thalos ignored the rude teller, sweeping Wren into another kiss, this time far more passionate. Wren bit her bottom lip slightly running a hand through his hair mischievously, "He's right you know, we should take this somewhere else."

"How long can you stay?" Thalos asked his blood practically galloping through his veins.

She grinned in a way that nearly sent Thalos crazy, arching an eyebrow curiously there was a tempting tease in her voice, "That depends."

That did it, Thalos was seconds from throwing her over his shoulder and taking her anywhere they could be together privately. He reigned in the urge however, taking her by the hand as they walked towards Erkmund's inn. The place was so busy, his old friend probably wouldn't even notice him come back into the inn.

Wren awoke groggily with the night watcher proclaiming it was six O' clock in the morning. She lay nestled beside Thalos comfortably in the wide bed. He snored loudly, one arm resting under his head while the other held the sheet around his torso. His body radiated warmth, and the sheets had a clean linen smell to them making Wren want to snuggle in deeper which she did for a moment allowing her a selfish few minutes to herself. Thalos looked so peaceful, his toned muscles and war scars matching his personality perfectly. Never had Wren met a man like him, Fel she was dubious of this kind of mans existence period. The only men she had ever dealt with were in her younger years to pay off some debt her uncle had or keep what food they could on their table in the winter or those times Sylvanas had a reward brought to her. But that was all behind her now, for a few minutes it was only him and her, in a warm comfy bed, there would be no more of that impersonal flared lust.

She would have lain in bed all day with him if she had the luxury to. But duty called the dark lady's plans would be in full force by nine, she would more than likely run Wren ragged with messages and notes and orders. It didn't matter now though, the sooner the dark lady decided she had earned a reward, the sooner she could be with him. But on the other hand, it disgusted Wren to know Thalos was only a preverbal carrot on a stick when she pleased Sylvanas. The assassin was torn between love and lust. Wren shook her head fiercely causing Thalos to shift in his sleep. She would not be like that, Wren knew she was better than that. Yes she would see Thalos, but not to the dark ladies forming.

"He will not be a treat I get for pleasing you, Sylvanas," She whispered in a snarl of anger, defiance glittering once more in her jade eyes.

Let the rotting hag think she was dancing to her tune, it would be less hassle that way, but Wren would know and she would relish every minute knowing that the dark lady had no control over this one precious reward.


	7. So Close, Yet So Far

Morning came, hectic; news reached the Undercity, at lightening speed, that the Worgen had launched an attack on a refuge in silver pine forest. The war had begun anew. Sylvanas was literally livid with rage and frustration, snapping on anyway who dare get in range of her fury, making Wren's idea of staying far away a better fortified thought. The high amount of chores that needed running was the perfect excuse to slip away for an hour unnoticed, and hopefully give the Dark Lady a chance to calm. A pouch full of the dark lady's golden coins on her side Wren set out to the bustling city of the dead.

On the other side of the city, Thalos sat near the smoldering inn fireplace sipping a hot mint tea absentmindedly. He rolled the small pewter cup in his hands back and forth taking the residual warmth from the brew. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the image of the beautiful human out of his mind. Her face never went away from his brain, her smile stapled to his heart.

"Uh oh, I know that look." Erkmund interrupted the paladins thoughts, as he lugged huge wooden crates marked with a rum label behind the bar of the inn.

"What look?" Thalos jerked his head up in confusion.

The forsaken sat down the heavy crate coming over to the love struck paladin. He slapped the elf good naturedly on the shoulder, flashing him a roguish wink. "Something has taken your rapt attention. Although what it could possibly be here eludes me."

Running a hand through his midnight hair Thalos sighed half in frustration half dreamily. "A woman."

"A woman!" Erkmund said a little louder than need be blinking a few times at the paladin as if disbelief. "I'll be the first to admit forsaken women aren't the best looking females on Azeroth. And for a person like you to actually fall in love with one…"

Thalos flushed at the thought shaking his head so hard it hurt momentarily. "It's not a forsaken but a human."

"O…" Erkmund placed a bony hand under his skeletal chin, nodding. "You must mean the dark lady's servant, uh…Wren I believe her name is."

Thalos leaned forward to the forsaken intrigued. "What do you know about her?"

The forsaken tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Not much, only war rumors and the like. Heard tell the dark lady captured her somewhere in the silver pine region. Let her live because she had a pretty voice. It was what, ten or eleven years ago, been with her ever since. But I'd be careful around her, other rumors tell of her being the dark lady's assassin as well. All I know about her anyway." He shrugged.

Thalos swallowed hard clutching his head. "I can't stop thinking about her, Erkmund. All my thoughts lead right back to her. I need something to take my mind off her, or by the dark lady herself she'll be the only thing I'll ever think about again!"

"Well then explore the city!" The jovial forsaken exclaimed slapping him on the back once more. "It's changed a lot since last you were here, something might catch your interest."

Thalos gave a weary sigh getting up heavily from the chair, downing the last bit of the tea. "It's worth a try." He mumbled, and headed out the door.

~8~8~

"I'll give you five gold for that vial of poison. No more, no less." Wren argued with a auctioneer who held the specially expensive and deadly poison the dark lady preferred for her daggers.

The auctioneer did not care in the least Wren was the dark lady's direct servant. It in fact made him not budge his asking price one bit no matter how many times he and Wren had argued over goods. "Seven." He replied evenly.

"Five." She growled.

"Seven."

"Seven it is." A voice from behind Wren interrupted.

Thalos took out his money bag counting out seven of the glimmering gold coins handing them to the forsaken. The auctioneer quickly pocketed the money, turning to Wren a rotted smile on his lips. "Where'd you find such a foolish friend, Wren? A minute more and I would have accepted five."

"You know elves." She replied placing a hand on her cheek as if embarrassed by Thalos' attention of her and his somewhat timely if not foolhardy rescue.

The forsaken laughed and waved goodbye, while Wren began walking off. Thalos trailed dutifully behind in confusion. "You could at least say thank you."

She turned her head back to him. "Thank you, for making yourself looks like a boob in front of him. I'll never hear the end of it."

He stopped for a moment shocked at her insult to him as she kept walking. Frustration took over then, he had gone exploring to get his mind off her, and yet here she was again! He had come to her rescue and now she treated him as an imbecile! _Instead of throwing herself into your arms like the last time._ He thought bitterly to himself.

By the time he came out of his little thought she had walked far ahead of him. He struggled to catch up. When he did, he was even more frustrated. "Now wait a minute I thought I was helping."

"Well you weren't." She replied taking a package from a female forsaken and stuffing it into her knapsack. Wren kept moving not waiting for Thalos to gather himself. Although she had determined seeing him would be on her time, she still couldn't afford herself the leisure of getting sloppy with her work.

"Wait. Stop. Slow down, where're you going?" He asked taking large steps to keep up with her small fast ones.

She kept moving not looking at him her voice laced with what Thalos considered annoyance. "I am running errands for my mistress. No time to sit and chat the evening away with you, Thalos."

He halted grabbing her arm gently before he quite knew what he was doing. "How about a cup of tea after errands then." He smiled, "surely you have a few free minutes, and I know the perfect place."

She stared at him for a moment gauging his sincerity, and then smiled slightly. "Very well, Thalos, I could use the rest."

"Great." He all but sighed. "When do you finish?"

"Now." She replied adjusting the pack for better comfort. "I wasn't going to tell you I was done in hopes you would buzz off. But now it seems I cant get rid of you, so I'll just have to suffer it." She smiled and to Thalos the whole Undercity brightened for a moment.

Thalos pulled out a chair for Wren in Erkmund's inn. The place was bright from the huge fire place and the coming and goings to the patron made a rather homey feel to the whole place. The inn keeper himself brought out the tea but his rotted expression glared alarm at Thalos. Taking the hot cups, the paladin ignored his friends shocked looks handing a cup to Wren.

"Best tea in the whole city." He sipped his gently enjoying the honey mint aroma.

She chuckled. "You've been here for about a three weeks and are already an expert of the city."

Wren sipped the tea then nodded. "You're right though, best I've ever tasted."

They talked of everything imaginable, wars, treaties, orc, to goblins nothing was to vague not to delve into. Hours ticked by unaware to the pair lost in one another's jade gaze. Cups upon cups were placed on trays for server to tally off.

"And then half of the company goes south and run straight into a powerful troll overlord with out even noticing him!"

Wren stifled laughs at the end of the story hearing those hard headed adventures who thought they could take on everything that came their way single handedly. Thalos sat back in his chair arms folded across his chest contently. He could see himself doing this the rest of his life, just looking at her. "I am glad I invited you to tea." He smiled.

Her eyes shimmered warmly at him, a different sparkle glinting in their agate gaze. "I am too."

Thalos leaned forward placing a hand on the table, she moved hers closer to his entwining her fingers tightly with his own. Their bodies moving closer over the table.

"6:00! And all is well!" A watchman's husky voice cried out from the street outside the inn.

Wren's eyes widened, she pulled back like a stunned woman. "By the nether is it truly 6:00?"

Startled and the mood ruined, Thalos blinked at her in surprise. "That's what the watchman said. The sixth hour in the evening, why."

Wren scrambled up collecting the packages muttering her apologies and speaking to herself. "Late! Three hours late! By the nether, Sylvanas is going to kill me for this! Sorry, Thalos I have to go."

The paladin frowned alarmed; he didn't know if Sylvanas killing her should be taken as an expression or a real threat. Would she be punished for his idea? Thalos was starting to feel incomprehensibly guilty. He watched her scramble out the inn as Erkmund walked toward him, frowning. "Why in the Dark Lady's name did you bring her here? I thought the plan was to get your mind off her!"

"I ran into her exploring the city." He replied, though worry for Wren's safety gnawed him.

Erkmund saw his expression and placed a bony hand on the paladins shoulder shaking his head. "Don't even think about it, friend, going to explain yourself would only get her into more trouble."

Thalos nodded his head slowly forcing himself, as a paladin to keep a strict military control over himself and have a seat. Though there was no training in the world that could take his mind off Wren's fate.

~8~8~

Wren stalked as quietly as she could through the dark lady's private living quarters praying the Banshee Queen was to busy with attack plans to take to much notice of her absence. The human opened the door to Sylvanas' study to terrifyingly find the Dark Lady sitting their hands folded gently on the desk. Her eyes were sparkling in a calm fury, like a storm before it breaks. She practically emanated danger. Wren placed her head down as if quailing in the Dark Lady's wrath, placing the knapsack tenderly on the ground.

"Mistress." Her voice all but a whisper.

"Where have you been?" Sylvanas asked calmly, but the sheer edge in her voice made Wren cringe.

"Out."

Wren ducked just in time to avoid an arrow flying past her landing solidly in the door. Quivering as if mimicking its wielders rage. The Dark Lady snarled. "Do not get smart with me, slave."

"Mistress." Wren stumbled. "What I meant to say was I was at an inn in the city having tea."

Narrowing her eyes in dubiousness Sylvanas shouldered her bow. "Tea?"

"Yes." Wren nodded furiously. "With Thalos the paladin! I lost track of time. I am sorry."

Wren didn't have to look up to know the dark lady was smiling wryly. Sylvanas sat down on the edge of her desk seemingly just fine. Why had the human gone through so much trouble to keep it from her in the first place? "I don't recall giving you permission to go and see him; much less have a three hour tea time."

"I…well…" Wren stumbled and halted pathetically, in a very rare time not able to formulate a reasonable response.

Seeing the human stumble up by the question made Sylvanas highly amused, though she showed nothing on her outward stony appearance. But she had to nip this in the bud; she had totally misjudged the infatuation between Thalos and Wren which could come as a big problem in the future as it had been tonight. Taking the end of her bow she placed it under Wrens neck. It was sharpened to a fine dagger point making the human come up when Sylvanas lifted it or else risk a sliced throat. "Tea, of all things. A war has just flared up and you have gone to tea with your little paladin! I really should kill you one of these days. You become a greater pain in my side every year."

At that the dark lady couldn't help but notice the girl swallow, nervous sweat pricking her forehead eyes widening a tad. Sylvanas shrugged casually not moving the bow an inch enjoying the sight of watching Wren squirm. "But despite all your short comings, you manage to keep me grounded in a way. And a secret you probably already know, I trust you more than all my advisors combined."

Taking the bow from her throat, Sylvanas grimaced harder if that was possible looking Wren straight in the eyes. "The morale of this little chat: Have your little love interest Fel sleep with him, if you already haven't, I don't care. But leave it at that, an interest. It can never be anything else. I …" The Dark Lady halted to find the proper word for a moment, "Rely on you to much. Even if you were to somehow come by your freedom, you know far to much for me to let you live. You will always be a slave, Wren."

The words stung Wren harder than any blow Sylvanas could have dealt her. She said nothing in the dismal silence, what was there to say?

"There are worse fates, Wren, believe me. You are my advisor and executioner, a position most of my people would kill to obtain. As you well know I reward those who serve me well so there is no need to fear never seeing him again. But, to make it clear, you will only see him when I deem you have earned a reward." The Dark Lady stated callously.

Wren couldn't think of any worse fates at the moment and even if she could, those that were worse would come by the Dark lady's hand anyway. Sylvanas didn't think of her as a moron or a half wit, quite contrary she often applauded Wren's intellect and guile. Yet here she was treating her no better than a circus bear!

When Wren said nothing as Sylvanas stared at her for long moments wondering what was going through the humans thoughts. Her face showed nothing, not even the way ward emotions humans were famous for. Her eyes were dull, demoralized, lifeless almost. Sylvanas felt a deep awkwardness on her part fidgeting uncomfortably. She rose testily, slamming the door as she left the study and feeling something she had thought dead with her body. Guilt.

~8~8~

Thalos ignored the disdainful glances and the snickers the guards gave him this day as he headed for the dark lady's throne room. Ignored was a kind word for he was completely oblivious to them. His whole morning and all last night had been consumed of thinking of Wren. Nightmares of walking down deserted mist laden halls to find Wren had been transformed into a forsaken, or seeing her behind cage bars getting prepared to be experiment number 1 all the while asking him why he had doomed her. If she got in trouble it would be all his fault and he wasn't sure he could live with that had anything serious happened to her.

Taking his friends advice he hadn't been out there first thing in the morning as he wanted to be, instead he came in the late afternoon casually as if to except more missions from the dark lady. He reached the door and the guards seemed disappointed when he didn't react to them telling him he would have to wait. The paladin sat automatically as if he had been a goblin creation of screws and wire, he certainly felt as high strung as one. Minutes past like hours, hours like years Thalos had begun pacing he couldn't help it the longer he stayed the more worry grew in him. When the door creaked open and Wren slipped out he very nearly cried out for joy. She appeared fine, but something was wrong, he could tell. Swallowing hard, he took a step toward her, "Wren…"

"Thalos," She smiled slightly but there was an underlying hint of angst in her voice.

He scuffed at the floor with a plated boot unsure how to continue, "I just came by to see if you were, you know, alright."

She laughed quietly the pleasant sound echoing from the walls and Thalos instantly lost all his worry. Amazing what one woman can do in a minute that a whole night and morning couldn't shake off a veteran paladin.

"As you can see I'm quite alright although I am under a stricter curfew, a house arrest of sorts."

"I am sorry for that-" He began wanting to beg her forgiveness. The last thing he wanted was more restriction on her freedom.

"Don't be," She interrupted snappishly.

He looked at her curiously, why had she snapped at him? There was some thing more at play than she was letting on. Wren sighed, leaning her back against the door, "Thalos, you're a nice…paladin and all but I cant…" Her voice trailed off and he could definitely hear the hurt in her words. "I can't." She whispered hoarsely knocking a way ward strand of hair from her face turning her eyes to the floor. Anything was better than staring at those lovely features twisted in confusion.

Taking a step closer he placed one of his hands over hers, "Can't what, Wren?"

She seemed drawn to him though he could tell she was doing all in her power to fight the temptation of telling him. Temptation won. "I cant be with you…see you again…hurt you."

Thalos pressed his forehead against hers being so close, she didn't smell like that awful stench she was constantly around here in the Undercity, instead smelling of soap and paper. The paladin wondered why he noticed it about her, never anyone else, "How would I be hurt? I love you Wren, I am more sure of that than anything else in my life. I will speak to Sylvanas and we can be together."

Wren felt the misty sting of tears build in her eyes, but blinked them away. If only he knew, but that would probably hurt more than the pain they were both experiencing now. She would never give Sylvanas the satisfaction of having control over them, using him like a milk bone for an obedient dog. If she was a slave, then so be her fate, but Wren couldn't let Thalos go through a life time of hanging around for her. A simple treat for when she pleased the dark lady. Thalos had stirred things long dead back to life within her, pride, self respect, love. He deserved better than that, and a part of Wren was starting to believe he deserved better than her.

"You will do no such thing, Thalos." Wren finally replied. "If you do love me please just stay away." She placed a hand gently in the middle of his chest pushing his bulk away slowly.

For Thalos it was the hardest blow he had ever recieved. He stood there numbly, like a statue, as she departed back inside. His body moved stiffly to the exit. He wasn't truly sure where he was headed until he got to a murky lake somewhere in Tirisfal glade. Looking down at the brownish filthy water, he sat at the shore and cried.

~8~8~

War was announced with Gilneas the next morning. Erkmund's inn was crowded with soldiers and champions waiting to enlist or had already enlisted and waiting to ship out the next day. The innkeeper was kept busy but worried about Thalos. He hadn't come back from going down to Sylvanas' throne room. All the forsaken could do was call up some old favors and contemplate just what had gone on. When the ragged paladin walked through the inn door it was all Erkmund could do not to drop the tray laden with mead basted boar and captain rum lager. He looked fine, but there was a dullness to him, like his life had been slowly drained away. So unlike the Thalos Erkmund knew. He handed the tray off suddenly to a forsaken servitor running over to speak to Thalos in whispered tones, "Where on Azeroth have you been, Thalos! What happened?"

"Been busy, old friend." He slapped the forsaken on the back heartily, "I was standing in the enlisting line for an hour!"

Erkmund's jaw fell to the floor with a clatter, he bent down quickly to pick it up wiping it off gingerly before snapping it back into place, "Enlisting! By the nether, Thalos, I thought you were retiring from the war business."

Thalos took his blade and a whet stone sitting down to sharpen his blade, "I was, until I fell in love. I have a plan to win the love of my life!"

"Wait, wait, wait…what!" Erkmund placed a rotting hand to his forehead.

Thalos stopped for a moment, looking up to the forsaken, "She doesn't want to be with me because she is a slave. So, I will fight like I have never fought before, shine out from all the rest, do a few heroic deeds here and there and the dark lady will have no choice but to grant me a boon, and I will use that to free Wren!"

Erkmund looked at his friend as if he had gone crazy, then chuckled slightly shaking his head, crazier things had happened. And he recognized the look in Thalos' eyes he was determined he would see it to the end.

"Well," Erkmund sighed, wiping a bony hand on his apron, "The patrons are going to be unhappy when I close the bar down for a little while."

Thalos grinned close to laughing as the inn bustled in with more soldiers and champions. How good it felt to have purpose once more!


	8. The Truth Hurts

The Gilnean war or more sinisterly known as the war of the fang and Forsaken had been a down right bloody thing. Many had been killed on both sides of the conflict, each struggling to win the tactical forest of Silverpine. If the Worgen succeeded in driving the forsaken out they could establish a firm Alliance foot hold dangerously close to the old kingdom. However if the forsaken came out on top they would sustain their growing nation, a worrisome thing for the Alliance in the southern eastern kingdoms.

The walls of the Gilnean city had been breached after long months of torturous wear and tear of the Horde forces. Alliance now held only a small part of the city but were fast calling upon reinforcements. Now was the time, Thalos knew, would be his shining moment. If he could but just kill the leader of the Worgen, Crowley, the most cunning of the dog men. The Banshee Queen would have to make a very large showing of it; if she wanted to keep support for a fast coming new war on the horizon to show her troop's loyalty and valor were well rewarded. It had been grueling months of warfare, and he had thought of Wren everyday of it. How could he not? Erkmund loyally stood by his side, battling away at the foe along side him. The old rogue had saved his life on more than one occasion, but Thalos knew this was not the un-life his friend desired. He would much rather be back at his inn tending to drunken orcs and his brooding forsaken brothers.

From a distance from the siege camp, a horn blared telling those on watch it was 2 O' clock in the morning and time to change shifts. The Alliance were more than likely doing the same. Scurrying from his tent, he met Erkmund on the outskirts of the camp traveling fast by warhorse to the destroyed city walls.

~8~8~

Candle light flickered off the burnished steel of a buckle as Wren strapped her leather jerkin into place. There was little in the tent, the largest item being a full length mirror, which was adorned with wolf bones around its edges, with the skull of one of the huge lupine creatures resting at the very top and the claws rounding off at the bottom for feet.

The assassin stood in front of the mirror making sure nothing in her rogues gear was out of place. Her mind methodically went over anything that might completely damn her, for even the slightest hint of misgivings would be her undoing. All her knives, both large and small, were in there respective sheaths. She noted their places by resting a hand on each and praying quietly that she would wield them justly and with skill. Small pouches encircled her dark leather belt, each holding a specific regent or item that would be life saving in case trouble arose. Tilting her head down she methodically checked these as well making sure they were all close at hand and at the ready. Satisfied, she looked back up, preparing to leave, only to find Sylvanas hanging in the background. Her arms were crossed, her usual smug look creasing her pale features. Upon seeing her, Wren couldn't help but jump in surprise, but afterward cursed herself inwardly.

"A little high-strung, are we?" Sylvanas asked hypothetically, arching an eyebrow.

Slipping her twin daggers into their respective sheaths Wren acknowledged the question with a disdainful snort. "Is it that obvious? It's not like I am going to kill just anybody. Crowley is a high ranking general in the war. The highest if you ask me. Killing him will not be simple."

"True." Sylvanas concurred. "But, as I remember, a little reward before such a big mission and the promise of one afterward always seemed to calm the nerves." Shrugging the Dark Lady flicked a bit of dirt from under her nail. "Pity you keep sending them back with out using them. How long has it been Wren? Six months already, my how time flies."

If nothing else, Sylvanas had to commend the assassin. So instinctively trained to take a reward after finishing a mission she'd shown surprising discipline in resisting her lust. Wren's face transformed into a scowl as she looked away. "I don't know why you keep sending them. Isn't it obvious now I am no longer interested?"

Sylvanas chuckled. "But if I didn't send you a reward every now and again then how would you know you're doing a good job?" The chuckle died immediately and Wren saw the Dark Lady turn into a stony picture of seriousness. "Speaking of good jobs, this is one the most important missions you will ever undertake. _Do not _fail me on this, Wren."

Wren could not help but wince as the brand on her arm began to glow faintly with a bit of heat. A sample taste of what was to come if she failed. She indeed knew the consequences would be on the verge of a near death experience wrought with torture and terror both mental and physical.

"It will be done, mistress." The assassin replied, even offering a stiff bow.

The pain vanished from her arm, and Sylvanas nodded pleased by Wren's more obedient nature which had been lacking since she had sent that damned paladin away. They were little rebellious acts, mind you, nothing so blatant she would be get herself punished. Survival was always her way, of course. Wren probably thought Sylvanas did not notice but the Banshee Queen missed little, especially when it came to Wren. She recognized the rebellion vaguely masked by the hated glares or the neutral features.

"Very well, Wren. May luck go with you." With that she departed leaving Wren alone to make finishing touches.

Facing the mirror one last time, Wren did a swift overview, from her leather boots, all the way up to her neck. When she reached her face however, she stopped. Her green eyes stared back at her mirroring all the emotions she held. Long ago she had stopped seeing Wren the human, the person with feelings and a soul. For almost ten years she only saw Wren the slave, the assassin, the soulless animal Sylvanas had created. And what disgusted her most was that until a few months ago she had been fine with that picture.

Until Thalos. Biting back a cry of frustration Wren clutched the sides of the mirror causing the glass to tremble slightly. She placed her face so close to the glass her breath misted a small part before fading away. Her forehead was cool upon the clear mirror. "Stop torturing yourself, Wren. Thalos is gone, it had to be done. This beast is you forever, accept it and move on."

Wren sighed, knowing it was all in vain. No matter how many times she had this conversation with herself, it was never true. She could never bring herself to act as she had. Looking at herself closer now, she could see her eyes shimmering nearly wet with tears. No, it would never be that easy to forget what Thalos Sunstrike had done for her. With a sneer she tore herself away, wiping a wayward tear that pooled in her eye before grabbing her cloak, pulling up the part of her mask that would cover her mouth, and walking out the tent.

Wren ran the outline of the city as nothing more than a dark shadow, her cool breath the only thing that might have given her away on the bitterly cold dark of the early morning hours. She had studied the outlines of the city with precision knowing where exactly the commander of the Worgen would be. The cobbles stone paths were dotted intermittently with torches that danced with a biting wind that was quickly stirring. A bad sign, Wren knew, Worgen had an excellent sense of smell. The road ahead was small, and for a few moments the bright full moon would give full attention to anyone that was racing across the road way, but that was the only route to Crowley's bunker.

Peeping out from a huge column of rubble, Wren was just deciding when would be her best move when a patrol thudded down the street. Their claws scraping against the stone sounding like nails beings dragged across rock as they marched with military precision in there patrol. Their sword scabbards clanked against their haunches as they strode down the narrow street. Wren clung to the rubble wall holding in her breath as they passed completely oblivious to her presence. They were in a heated discussion about Graymane and the elves from Kalimdor. Normally Wren would have followed to listen in on what was undoubtedly critical discussion but she had more important tasks at hand. When their voices were only faint whispers in the wind, Wren dashed across the road. It seemed her feet barely touched the moon glinting stones before she once again disappeared into darkness.

Only a few moments later she arrived at the guarded bunker that served as a plotting ground for Crowley. Many guards were stationed around the squat half earthed stone and metal building. They patrolled every 10 feet or so that it would make it near impossible to get by. Except for Wren. Slowly, impossibly slow, the assassin worked her way through the deadly maze of guards, stopping sometimes 5 or 10 minutes at a time until she was sure it was the proper moment to move again. However it wasn't the patrolling guards that worried her most, it were the ones stationed on either side of the door. A huge stone slab somehow drilled with holes sat in center of the ugly squat building. Two guards on either side, rested their backs to the stone, their gazes bored and tired. _Good._ Wren thought, allowing herself a tight smile. _Very good._

Using all her skill she stalked up to the left identical pair of Worgen. Their thick shaggy fur did nothing to conceal their dropping eyelids. Wren knew how to use that to her advantage. "Idiot, no sleeping on the job." Wren growled into the closest guard's ear, her tone matching that of the gruffest of Worgen.

The guard instantly became awake, yawing lazily and scratching his jaw line. He turned to his partner whom he had thought had scolded him to stay up for duty only to find him nearly snoring. Anger stirred in the guardsmen who shoved his partner. "No sleeping on the job, huh? You big hypocrite."

As the guardsmen shoved his fellow guard, Wren crouched down, holding out her arm between the sleeping Worgen's feet. The shove caused the half asleep Worgen to tumble no more than a step, but his paws were tripped by Wren's arm making him fall to the ground.

The Worgen on the ground glared up to her partner, snarling in a cranky mood. "Why'd you push me, mate?" Wren could barely understand his thick Gilnean accent along with the deep throaty tone of his bestial voice but there was no missing the anger there.

As they argued, Wren sat in the shadows patiently watching the fight break out. The two guards from the other side were joining in now trying to diffuse the situation. With all the commotion it was child's play for Wren to slip inside the door. It was a single cold large room, with a huge map of Gilneas and Silverpine tacked on one of the walls, a large command table in the center, and somewhere to the side was an unmade cot with covers piled upon the ground and four or five candles flickering on the table to give the room some sort of light.

Once inside, Wren instantly dove for the darkest shadow in the room, every part of her body moved with the practiced skill. Even the moths that danced their deadly attraction to the candle flames didn't notice the stealthy human enter. Placing herself comfortably in the black corner, she settled down to wait for her target.

~8~8~

"How do we get in?" Thalos asked in a hushed whisper.

The elf and his compatriot lay on their bellies, looking at the many guards who dotted the land that led to the bunker. Erkmund pointed a bony yet gloved finger to a small part of the bunker. "Over on the left side is a small window I can pick lock open."

"Is it big enough for us to get in?" Thalos asked dubiously.

The rogue only nodded, while handing his friend a small clear vial. Thalos grimaced. An invisibility potion. Disgusting, expensive, but effective for short trips. He never asked how Erkmund got such expensive things, and in truth he really didn't want to know.

"We will have to be swift." Erkmund stated while shaking the small vial in front of him. He smiled slightly. "Bottoms up, friend."

Stoically, Thalos took the brew and miraculously did not heave, as the pair slowly made their way to the bunker. It was easier than both had expected, because for some mysterious reason, most of the Worgen's attention was turned to the door, where shouting was heard. As they stalked to the window, Thalos made a silent prayer in hopes that Crowley had not returned early. The window was just big enough to get into as both rogue and paladin stole upon the wooden rafter beams to wait for the Worgen general.

No more than a few moments later the huge stone door swung open and Crowley stalked into the bunker. It was obvious he was exhausted. He let his cloak drop to the floor as well as his plate helm. A huge paw went to run a hand through his thick salt and peppered fur. Planting his hands on the huge table, he let out a deep sigh.

Wren appeared from the dark corner like a ghost, making the Worgen jump in alarm. From the rafters, Thalos' long eyebrows shot up in surprise, as he paused from casting his rebuke spell. She was the one person he had not expected to be here. Making a staying motion to Erkmund, they remained hidden looking on at the scene

"Who are you?" Crowley snarled in the face of the human, it was only because she was human that it seemed he hadn't called for the guards.

Wren held he hands up non threateningly her voice quiet, "My name is Wren, assassin to Sylvanas. I come in peace!"

The Worgen arched a furry eyebrow, eyes narrowing in dubious disgust, " A human assassin working for the forsaken, what kind of person betrays their own people."

"It's not what you think," She replied lowly, "I have no choice. I am her slave."

"Why are you telling me this?" Crowley rumbled intrigued.

Wren gulped loudly, "Because I believe we can aid one another. I have served the dark lady ten long years against my will, bound by a curse that keeps me from escaping her cold grasp. If I betray her now, the curse will strike me dead where I stand. But if I have the Worgen blood, there is a good chance I will be able to withstand the other curses power. The stronger curse will cancel the other."

Crowley gave a slight rumbling laugh scratching his chin thoughtfully, "And, if you're telling the truth, what's in it for Gilneas?"

Wren shrugged, "I know the Undercity like the back of my hand, every tactic for this war, all guards, scouts, patrols. Victory is what I offer, General Crowley. I want nothing more than revenge for my years of servitude." Her face contorted in anger, a fist balled. "She treats me like an animal, fetch this and kill whomever. I want the pleasure of running my daggers through her black heart."

"You know the Forsaken strategies?" Crowley sounded dubious once more, totally disregarding Wren's own personal reasons for the betrayal. "Prove it," Crowley pointed a claw to the map tacked on a wall.

Wren made a quick drawing sketch of a tactic the dark lady was sure to use. It was clever maneuver, one that could have potentially damned half the Gilnean army. Crowley nodded impressed, "Amazing. You could be a great boon to us, Wren. Very well you may have my blood. May the Worgen's curse hum through your veins!"

With that he took out a dagger pricking his thick hide to bring only a dollop of blood. That was when Wren struck unloosing her own dagger with the precision of a master assassin. The invisible shield that had been over Crowley had dissipated the moment he pricked his skin. Making him, for a few heartbeats, vulnerable. The dagger stuck squarely in his chest, piercing his heart. His eyes widened with shock, blood drooling out his fanged maw. He clutched at the dagger's hilt, trying to draw it away, all the while feeling the poison it had been laced with, burning though his body. He let out a cry of alarmed pain echoing the small room and beyond.

From the rafters Thalos couldn't help but cheer at the clever maneuver, drawing Wren's attention. She looked up in alarm that quickly turned to surprise. Loud shouting was heard outside the door, the heavy marching of guards were coming fast. Wren dragged the table that sat in the room pushing it against the door. With a quick nod that it would hold temporarily, she climbed up to the rafters next to Thalos, anger sparkling in her eyes, "What in the nether are you doing here!"

He blinked several times quickly at her accusatory tone, "Coming to kill Crowley of course, that way I can win your freedom."

The conversation was cut short as guards roared outside the bunker door.

The three crawled out the small window, as the guards broke down the door crying out upon seeing Crowley dead. Worgen howled murderously like the mourning of a huge pack of wolves. They wanted blood and now. Know doubt the three would be ripped limb from limb should they be caught. The unpleasant prospect aided their speed out of the city, cutting corners dodging behind rubble piles and staying in the most shadowy cresses of the city. As they left, Wren halted for a moment activating a flare that swirled high into the sky, visible for miles.

Dawn was barely tinting the sky when they were a safe distance away from the city. Fires blazed brightly as the Forsaken made their move into the walls. They had seen their signal flares, and were moving in all to eagerly to shed Worgen blood. As the city was no longer in sight, Wren slowed her pace to a walk trying to catch her breath. Thalos walked alongside her, wondering what he could say, "A mighty fine ruse you pulled on the dog, Wren. I almost believed it myself!" He chuckled weakly.

Wren sighed taking the leather down that covered her mouth, she didn't look at him but shrugged, "You almost believed it because it was the truth. I do have a curse upon me and if the Worgen's blood would negate it, we would be enemies as we speak."

Thalos didn't somber in the least at the revelation, he was to happy, "It doesn't matter now, surely Sylvanas will reward you for killing Crowley. Such an arduous task requires a huge reward. You can free yourself."

Wren gave a mirthless laugh at the thought of Sylvanas being fair and granting her her freedom. It died immediately as she looked at Thalos, she shuddered to think that if she had not let him go and just had kept him as an interest as Sylvanas had wanted, she would probably see him right now as a reward. Wren bit her lip in frustration, he would never give up trying to be with her, as lovely and heart warming as it was, he had to know the truth. "Thalos, we must talk, hopefully I can explain things, no matter how much it hurts for me to do so."

His features turned into confusion. "Explain what, Wren?"

She stopped turning to Erkmund, with a caustic glare. "We will talk away from him, I don't trust his kind."

"Erkmund is a trustworthy friend, Wren." Thalos announced, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. His mere touch seemed to calm her.

To Thalos' surprise the forsaken merely shook his head at the paladin. "I take no offence, Thalos. I understand the hate for ones captor, and their people all too well." With a slight bow to Wren the assassin disappeared into the dense forest pines leaving Thalos and Wren seemingly alone.

They walked for a while, neither saying anything until reaching the edge of Lordemere Lake. They sat by the dark lake, watching its sickly green and black waves lap languidly against the moon touched shoreline. Wren sat silent for a time, her eyes intently watching the shimmering water before she spoke. "It was not far from here when I lost my freedom some 10 years ago. I was only 17 then, but Sylvanas spotted potential in me and had me secretly trained."

Thalos said nothing but his eyes widened as Wren absentmindedly rubbed her left arm. Even though it was covered, he could only wonder what lay beneath the leather sleeve. He could only imagine the rigorous training that went into teaching the Dark Lady's personal assassin. "It must have been tough." He finally managed to speak up, but it seemed like a pathetic statement.

"Tough?" Wren made a noise that might have been a half hearted chuckle. "Tough is the polite word for it. Think about training non stop nearly everyday by men and women who, at their illustrious Lady's request, do not hesitate to push you far beyond your limits or punish you brutally when you fail. It worked though, they made me fear punishment more than failure, and therefore I succeeded."

The paladin could say nothing then, only placing a comforting hand on the shoulder of the human rogue as she continued. "After my training was complete, Sylvanas tasked me missions. I fulfilled them all dutifully, and as a reward for my hard work." Wren paused, bracing herself for the next revelation, knowing not if Thalos would become angry or hurt. "Sylvanas had a man, usually a prisoner, sent to my chamber. I knew what she was giving them to me for, they were always the handsomest men, tied up, and naked. I don't know if it was my desperate loneliness or the furious anger dwelling within me, but I took my reward, every time." Tears stung Wren's eyes, her voice choked, but still she continued. "I didn't care if the men wanted me to take them as my reward or not. For those that did not, I took what I wanted forcefully, hurting them to a point where they could no longer enjoy it even if they had wanted to. All the while I selfishly took my pleasure, deaf to their pleas, blind to their struggling. All I saw was a prize, not a person, but a thing to sate me and wear out my anger."

The only sounds were the waves gently rolling onto the earth as Wren could not continue. Neither looked to the other, but at the waves. Thalos glanced over the waters out to the tiny islands that consisted of one or two trees and a few moving figures of a murloc tribe. He leaned against his hands, while his bright jade eyes surveyed the slowly brightening landscape. "So that's what I was to you?" He asked quietly.

"At first." Wren admitted, daring to glance his way, and saw him physically wince at her words. "But then you did something unexpected. You woke in me things I long forgot. Thalos, you made me feel human again. You made me remember I was not the animal Sylvanas had crafted me into. That's why we cant be together."

"I don't understand." He replied, slowly, genuinely confused. One would think if he had awakened so much she would want him around.

Wren sighed tossing a pebble into the lake. "You would be a slave to me, just as I am to Sylvanas, maybe even greater. Your life would consist of waiting upon my every word, my every mission to be complete in your naive hope that one day I may be free and we can be together at all times." The assassin shook her head. "I will never be free. Do you truly believe that Sylvanas would actually let me up and leave just like that? I know far to much. This curse is meant to last till the day I die, always to be in her service," Her voice was laced with bitterness and anger. "Don't you see, Thalos, you are nothing but a reward for me when I have pleased Sylvanas. She sees you only a thing to warm my bed and keep me content."

Thalos grit his teeth in frustration disparity threatening to wash over him, "There has to be a way!"

She turned on him suddenly fighting back a well of tears in her eyes, "Listen to me you rock headed paladin! There is no way. For ten years I have lived under Sylvanas' system of punishment and reward. When she is displeased the curse upon me racks my body with pain that is unlike anything you've ever felt. When she is satisfied I have my prize. That is my life and how it shall be till what ever my end comes to claim me. Leave and never come back to the Undercity. Forget about me!" The tears finally broke loose then, her voice cracked, "Please, Thalos, I can't bear the thought of you being so close and not being with you. I will be too weak to resist what I have done for so long and do exactly what Sylvanas has planned. I will become the sated animal all over again. And I don't want that for you or me."

With out warning she rose, disappearing into the pines, leaving a stunned Thalos, disheartened, broken, pondering.

"She is truly lost to me then." He whispered to himself. Slowly, he rose and walked in the opposit direction, his head bowed, shoulders slumped. Like a ragged soldier coming back from a defeat.

Unbeknownst to either Thalos or Wren the sharp ears of Erkmund had heard every word.


	9. Love Conquers All

Wren reached Sylvanas' command tent, just as the camp was beginning to stir. The Dark Lady was already up, pacing to calm her excitement. Seeing Wren she stopped in anticipation, "Crowley?" She asked.

Wren took a deep breath quickly confining her rioting emotions to only inward turmoil, adopting a neutral look, "Dead, mistress. The first legion is working on taking the city and funneling out survivors as we speak. You'll be able to stroll through the streets by sundown."

Sylvanas smiled slapping Wren lightly on the back exuberant, "You never disappoint me, Wren!"

The human remained silent to the praise, simply staring at the dark blue canvas of the tent making Sylvanas arched an eyebrow, "Still mourning over ending it with that paladin I see." She sighed pressing a well manicure post humus hand on her temple, "I will never understand you humans. A good thing comes along and you always find a way to ruin it."

Wren turned on her sharply anger flashing in her agate eyes, "There is good in being treated no better than a well trained animal? There is good in hanging him up like the preverbal carrot on a stick, so that when my duties have been preformed I may rut my night away with him, knowing we are only together because my mistress thinks I deserve a reward?"

Sylvanas shrugged, slightly chuckling, "The way you say it you perceive it as a bad thing. Take your pleasure where you may, Wren. If you don't desire any company on lonely nights so be it. But just so you know your little paladin is stationed here." Sylvanas smiled slyly making Wren want to punch her in the face. "And," she continued unabashed by the fury dancing on Wren's face, "If you've lost interest in him there's a cage full of fresh captives, being shipped to my city tomorrow, you may take your pick of them." She smirked. "As the old saying goes, to the victors the spoils."

Wren took an angry step forward her voice tight and bristling with wrath, "You just don't get it do you."

The dark lady gave a tight dangerous smile cocking her head to the side, "Indeed I do. It's you who seems to be ignorant. You will become lonely, as all the living do, from time to time. Except all you'll ever think about again is the tender touch of your paladin. Until of course you have a temporary substitute. Only then will his memory fade for a few precious hours. So keep being stubborn it will only make the wait all the more sweet, for it's only a matter of time before you break and take one of them to bed. And after that long wait of having no one to slake your desire, you will thank me for my generosity."

"Never!" Wren all but screeched trembling with rage.

"Soon." Sylvanas corrected, a smirk on her relaxed features.

Wren's eyes narrowed, a hand slipped to her dagger. Her muscles were tight and her teeth grit together. She felt the brand slowly heat on her arm in warning, but didn't care. Was it not enough she was a slave? Was it not enough she knew there would be no chance for freedom? Why did the Dark Lady have to pick at such a raw wound?

"You cannot possibly fathom how much I hate you!" Wren snarled so savagely Sylvanas actually took a step back.

Before Sylvanas could respond, Wren stalked out the tent, where she was going she didn't know and didn't care, telling herself the Dark Lady's words were only hurtful lies. Her wandering led her to a large cage holding captured soldiers. The pitiful retches were huddling against one another for the warmth from the shivering dank dawn. One with long brown hair and black eyes, looked at Wren with eyes wide, and inwardly she knew the dark lady was correct. One day trying to forget Thalos would not be enough, her weakness would take command and that would break her.

Trembling in rage she spun on her heel making her way to her private tent and flinging herself on the cot. Running a hand through her golden hair, she wondered, and not for the first time, was there any hope.

~8~8~

Huge rats that inhabited the festering green slime ridden sewers of the Undercity scrambled to and fro to get out of the way of a person who walked through the fetid morass. The misshapen toxic beasts were used to the hulking abominations who'd befriended them, but this presences was different. This one smelled of a forsaken who was looking for…_him._ Squeaking and hissing, the rats darted to tell their master he was about to have visitors.

Erkmund strode determinedly through the gunk that coated his leather boots and leggings as his cunning eyes looked for any signs of _him. He _was the only one who could help him and Thalos, if there was nothing _he _could do than all was truly lost for his paladin friend.

"Stop where you are, Erkmund." A gravely voice, almost like a hiss, echoed through out the sewers.

The rogue stopped dead in his tracks knowing that when _he _told you to stop, you most certainly obeyed or risked losing your life. From around a bend in the sewer came the faint flicker of a torch. It seemed like forever until a small hobbled looking forsaken appeared. _He_ was garbed in expensive robes that lay in tatters about his person. _He_ wore a wide brimmed black felt hat that covered his face fully when slouched forward, hiding any and all emotions if he had any.

In one hand he held the torch and in the other was an ash wood cane, with a rounded crystal ornament on top, which _his_ bony fingers were wrapped around tightly. Along his shoulder bones, sat the most hideous rat. It had patched fur of mismatch colors and bald in some places with jagged scars and half of his thick tail missing and the most yellow fangs of any of the nasty beast.

The oddly dressed Forsaken rested his cane on the wall, crossing his arms. "So, what brings one of my most expensive customers around today?"

Erkmund tired to contain a shudder that went through his body but couldn't. _He _made one feel ill at ease on every occasion simply because _he _could. The rogue shrugged. "I need something potent, something that will mimic the effects of death."

"But not kill." _He_ concluded then dropped back into silence.

Erkmund only nodded.

Despite his face being covered by the hat, Erkmund could feel the greasy smile that was undoubtedly coming to the strange forsaken. "Potent stuff that. It won't come cheap."

"Can you get it or not?" Erkmund asked, faintly challenging.

_He_ bristled at that statement and the rat atop his shoulders hissed angrily, baring his jagged fangs until the forsaken calmed it with a reassuring pat. "I always get what I want, Erkmund. But come now, we need to speak of price…"

~8~8~

Thalos sighed as he stuffed a silken shirt into his pack. The room he had rented from Erkmund was nearly empty of his possessions now. For months he had lived at the inn, making this tiny room almost his home. Thalos smiled weakly admitting that a few rare times it had been his home when Wren was there. He remembered them lying on the bed talking softly into the dark about there hopes and dreams. She never talked much, perhaps it was to painful for her to think of such things, but she always loved listening to his dreams. Her hand placed in the middle of his chest, while another would entangle itself into his hair, as Wren's head would lie on his shoulder.

But now she was gone. The smile faded, and Thalos went back to his task of packing. Anything was better than thinking of what would never be.

"Packing already?" The voice of Erkmund asked from the door.

Thalos didn't bother to look up. "Wren said she wanted me gone. I won't put her through pain because I am a stubborn elf. If she can cope better as a slave with me gone…then I must go."

"Oh but I have a plan to obtain your beloved's freedom." The forsaken replied, moving into the room and dropping into one of the chairs.

That caught Thalos' attention. The elf's head jerked up, his ears perking slightly in excitement. He arched an eyebrow dubiously. "What did you have in mind, friend Erkmund?"

The rogue only laughed as he held up a tiny glass bottle. In the bottle swirled greenish yellow liquid that was bubbling on its own.

"Poison?" Thalos asked confused.

"Not just any poison," Erkmund replied. He leaned forward in his chair, his voice barely a whisper. "Here is what we must do!"

~8~8~

"Make ready for the Banshee Queen's arrival!" A commander yelled to the troops that now lined the Gilnean streets.

As they walked through the broken gates into the land of Gilneas, Wren couldn't help but cringe at those words. 11 years to the date, and those were the exact words that had been spoken the day when her fate had been sealed to live as a slave to Sylvanas.

Both Wren and Sylvanas rode on undead horses into the city streets where orc sea dogs and Forsaken troops gave deafening cries of victory. Sylvanas revealed in their cheers, the throngs screaming her name. She sat tall, smirking in a superior fashion as they strode down the streets leading to the grand cathedral.

Waving to the mass of soldiers, the Dark Lady talked quietly to Wren. "Oh do at least attempt to enjoy the day, Wren. This is a day of celebration, and you're sulking like you've just lost the war."

Wren did have to admit she looked rather pathetic, hunched over, staring at the bones and sagging flesh of the horse. But what did she have to be happy about? Thalos, the only real joy in life she had known, was gone. "Are you going to make me cheer up, mistress?" She grumbled.

Sylvanas didn't answer as the towering cathedral came in sight. It was a huge building with countless spires from many different wings that rose to the gray sky. Thick oaken double doors were spread wide, showing the destroyed inside and burnt surrounding. The long velvet carpet that led from the steps and into the cathedral and been torn and dirtied with mud and blood.

Both Wren and Sylvanas got off their mounts as they reached the square to walk the rest of the way. The crowd was separated into two parts leaving one walk way to the steps of the cathedral. Orc and forsaken cheered side by side, raising their weapons in victory.

Wren looked from side to side inspecting the crowd for assassins. People who weren't cheering who had their weapon brandished. From the crowd, Wren swore she saw a pair of familiar ears sticking up above the mass and knew they belonged to Thalos. Immediately she knew something was about to go down, something that could possibly change her life.

Sylvanas turned back to face Wren only for a moment her eyes asking the silent question of the 'all clear'. Wren nodded fighting hard to hide her smile. Instantly Sylvanas strode through the small strip, cloak fluttering head held high. Wren followed after, silent, and expectant.

"Stay where you are, Wren." She heard Erkmund's voice from the crowd and halted.

Sylvanas, ever vigilant, stopped when she did. "What's wrong?" The Dark Lady asked her assassin, a hand moving to her daggers.

The strong voice of Thalos boomed through the crowd. "What's wrong, Sylvanas is that if I can't have Wren, then neither can you!"

Like an angel he appeared through the crowd pushing those who were in his way. Wren's look of excitement turned to one of confusion at his words. She was about to ask what he meant, but never got a chance to ask as he stabbed her. It was a move she hadn't been expecting. Her look of confusion shifted into one of betrayal and agony. Poison laced on the dagger began to move through her blood stream like fire. A hand went down to the wound where blood was seeping out. It wouldn't have been a life threatening wound, she noted even as her eyes grew dim and she began to black out, except for the poison.

"No!" Sylvanas shrieked, seeing a life time of valuable training and proficiency wasted as Wren fell to the ground.

In an instant her bow was out aimed for the bastard paladin who had ruined a valuable asset. But he had disappeared into a cloud of smoke, leaving the soldiers wondering what had just happened. Assassins had targeted a slave? No one was out raged, no one was yelling for aid. Sylvanas had to remember to keep up the guise. Dropping her bow she strolled slowly to where Wren lay. She was dead, there was no doubt about it. Blood pooling under her life less corpse the blade still caught in her side with poison dripping out.

A captain forced his way through the crowd to kneel beside Wren. After a quick inspection he determined what Sylvanas already knew. "Should she be prepare her for reanimation, my queen?" He asked.

If Sylvanas had possessed a living heart it would have stopped beating at that moment. If Wren was ever turned into a forsaken Sylvanas could not control her. Meaning she would be an angry freed woman bent on an un life of vengeance. The thought of Wren on the loose after her put fear into Sylvanas' heart like nothing else. She shook her head rapidly. "No, have her buried somewhere off the coast. She was a faithful slave, who deserves to rest in peace."

Sylvanas didn't believe that for a moment but it got a few nods of approval from the orcs, and that way Wren's body would still be available just in case Sylvanas found a way to control her dead.

Within minutes two servitor arrived to dispose of the body. They covered it with a white sheet, departing. Sylvanas stared all the way as they left. A tiny part of her had an inkling of regret, but she couldn't dwell on such things, she had a ceremony to commence with.

~8~8~

Wren was alive. She didn't know why or how, she just knew the agony in her side proclaimed she was still in the realm of the living. She knew by the rocking and jumping with the squeaky turn of wheels, she was being pulled in a cart with a white tarp covering her. Slowly a hand went up to find in relief she had not been changed into a forsaken. Immediately as she moved the cart stopped. Wren held her breath preparing to strike at whoever came forth. Instead she heard familiar voices. "Oh look Thalos, we got a live one back there!"

Thalos? Wren's heart leapt in joy, as the cover was thrown off of her. She was in the back of a horse drawn cart, Erkmund and Thalos in the front seat. Thalos was turned to her, smiling. "I told you I would find a way to free you."

"Free?" Wren echoed confused. It was only then she didn't feel the thick oppression of the curse. So used to it, it hardly ever bothered her, now she realized it was gone.

"Thalos!" She struggled to rise but the pain in her side gripped like a vice. She was forced to lay back down. "How?"

"Hold up, Wren. Calm down." Thalos jumped into the cart murmuring a quiet prayer to the Light for the wound.

Wren sighed as his hand, warm with the Light, pulsated around the wound knitting her flesh together. Freedom, it was a sweet word. She half expected to wake up to Sylvanas' dry voice and it would have all been a dream. But it was real, by the Light it was real!

Thalos held her hand expectantly. " Erkmund bought a poison that mimics death. I stabbed you but not fatally, making Sylvanas think you dead and also erasing the curse that was upon you. Thinking you dead there was no need of it and it was dispelled. We can be together, Wren."

Wren looked past Thalos, slightly nodding to the forsaken in thanks, who calmly nodded as well. If it hadn't been for him, she would still be a slave.

Suddenly, Wren slapped Thalos hard, shocking the paladin. He turned to her in surprise. "What was?"

"That's for stabbing me." She stated with a sly smile. Wren then pulled him close hovering his lips close to hers. "And this is for freeing me." They met in a fiery kiss of joy and love.

Regrettably Thalos parted his lips from her, but there was much to do on a single day. "We need to get out of here and find a place to stay. The Hinterlands would be a good place to lay low."

"Yes." Wren nodded but frowned. "But there's something I have to do before we leave. An insurance of sorts."

Thalos lost his smile. "Sylvanas?"

Wren hands balled into fists together at the mere name, her teeth grit. "You would deny me a single night of revenge compared to my ten years of servitude?" Wren asked.

She knew it was a big request. What if Sylvanas managed to catch her, what if she was preparing her to arrive. But on the other hand, when would she get another perfect moment to exact her revenge? Thalos sighed, running a hand through Wren's head lovingly. "I would not deny you your vengeance, Wren. But remember we have little time."

"I know, my love, I know." With that she smiled, leaning up on her elbows, to meet Thalos with another kiss.

_A/N: Sorry this took so long to put up. I have been busy and then when I heard about Mist of Pandaria I had to rage all over the internet. _:


	10. Sweet Revenge

Sylvanas stared out of a huge viewing window that adorned a comfortable Gilnean fashioned study. The quaint room was part of what used to be known as Graymane Manor but was now, and would be forever known, as the Dark Lady's hall. Dark foreboding clouds were starting to march inward to land, rumbling with the threat of a night's storm. On the choppy waves, her ships were safely anchored, and even from here she could see sailors battening down the last of the cargo and ship implements. Smoke from outlying Gilnean villages curled into the gray noon sky proclaiming that even if the Worgen one day tried to retake their homeland there would be nothing there but newly erected Forsaken villages in there stead's.

At any other time Sylvanas would be basking in her conquest and victory, slapping the backs of the heroes who had stood out in the war, and renaming historic Gilnean landmarks as more insult to the defeated Gilnean's. Scolding herself inwardly, Sylvanas corrected herself it wouldn't have been basking per say, she would have been gloating to Wren who was always upset when Sylvanas was victorious. But the assassin was dead. Sylvanas had to keep reminding herself of that fact. So used to Wren's presence, more than once she had strode into a room about to call for the slave only to halt mid speech and remember that she would never answer again.

The new assassins vying for Wren's old position were in no uncertain terms incompetent. It wasn't there fault, Sylvanas knew, it was simply because they did not know her personally like Wren had known her. Wren had known her pet peeves, how to push her buttons, and what she approved and what she didn't with out even having to ask. She did not have to worry would Wren botch an assassination, since she had the highest faith in her slave. But most ironically, a fact which Sylvanas would have killed Wren before admitting aloud; she missed her singing and the company. Even if it was forced singing and hated company Sylvanas had to choose carefully to whom she divulged the most private and personal of matters. What better person than Wren?

Sighing, Sylvanas turned from the window to a small table stand next to a comfortable looking blue armchair. It must have been Genn Graymane's private place of relaxation for when Sylvanas had discovered the room; books had still been stacked around the chair and the liquor cabinet in the room open. Pouring herself a glass of Gilnean brandy, Sylvanas inclined in the chair, feeling the true thrill of victory sweep over her. This was her land now. She had strengthened her kingdom tenfold, and had driven a whole nation to the brink of extinction with the survivors having to beg the rest of their allies for refuge. And with another failed war, she doubted Genn and his nation of mutts would be looked upon with any kinder eyes.

Yes, Sylvanas admitting, sniffing the brandy appreciatively while swirling it, even with Wren dead, un life was indeed good. Chuckling, Sylvanas took a sip. The moment the Dark Lady put the glass to her lips, she knew it'd been drugged. Cursing herself for such a stupid error on her part, she strove to rise, and call her guards, but only managed one step and a pitiful gurgle before falling unconscious to the floor.

Mere moments later Wren dropped from the lofted ceiling, a wide wicked grin on her face as she looked upon the unconscious form of Sylvanas Windrunner.

~8~8~

"Huh…what…" Sylvanas mumbled drowsily. Her head was throbbing, and swimming in confusion, threatening to make her lose consciousness once more.

She opened her eyes a crack to find darkness had fallen. What happened, what day was it? She tried to move, only to find her hands and feet had been tied. As her sanguine eyes opened wider, she noticed a small fire going, showing at least a little of the terrain. It was an old Gilneas ruin, probably some temple or stone farmhouse. Ivy had grown upon those few walls that still stood, wrapping around the crumbling warped stone, while weeds choked every corner of the rubble. There was one spot, however, where the weeds were trodden upon by dark leather boots.

Arching her head up Sylvanas saw Wren starting down at her, arms crossed. Fear took over then, but Sylvanas, ever the cunning, masked it with anger, hoping to bluff the assassin into thinking that she had known all along that Wren was alive. The Dark Lady snarled struggling against her bonds. "Wren, what are you-"

She got no further as the human was beside her in spilt seconds. Her hand gripped the back the Sylvanas' head and slammed it into the stone foundation. Sylvanas hissed in pain as she felt the abrasive, coarse stone dig into the skin on her forehead. She tried calling upon the curses power to stun the human but to her terror found the curse had been broken. On an after thought she should have known that was the case. Wren had died, in some way or another, and doing so nullified the curse.

Picking the Banshee Queen up by her hair, the assassin let out a roar, slamming Sylvanas into a standing wall. Stars burst into Sylvanas' vision at such a barbaric blow, she stumbled backward but Wren held her to the cold sharp stone wall.

"How does it feel, '_mistress'_?" Wren whispered savagely into Sylvanas' ear, her voice laced with nothing but hate and rage that had been tucked away for ten years. "To be helpless, at my hands?"

Turning the Dark Lady so that she faced her, Wren let her fury fly in a series of brutal punches. Afterwards she let Sylvanas fall in a painful heap on the hard earth. Squatting down beside her head, Wren cocked her head to the side slightly while holding Sylvanas' own so that she looked directly into her eyes. "Tell me, witch, how does it feel to be at my mercy for once?"

Wren tried to hide her frustration when Sylvanas merely laughed in her face. "You think this is torture, that this is pain? I have been through hell and back, and felt more pain than you can possibly dream. You can't do anything to me worse than what I've already been through." She managed to shake her head a litte. "I must say, Wren, almost eleven years as my slave you didn't learn much about me."

"Oh I learned, Sylvanas." Wren replied, rising slowly. She headed to the fire, throwing more wood on to brighten the scene. Only then did Sylvanas see the brand heating in the blaze. She smiled when Sylvanas' eyes found hers once more, all laughter gone. "If there is anything you taught me it was how to take proper revenge."

With that, Wren dropped herself on the other side of the fire, looking through it directly at Sylvanas. The only sounds were the constant crackling of wood, and the racking caw of crows as they perched in the tree's around them as if spectators to some strange ritual. Dawn was barely tinting the horizon turning the sky into a soft gray.

"Did it please you to see me miserable, Sylvanas?" Wren asked after long moments of silence. "To know there was some one more miserable than you in this world?"

"I don't answer the questions of slaves." Sylvanas snarled, still trying to free herself. But she that would be all but impossible, Wren knew what she was doing.

Wren's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched in anger. "I am no longer your slave, Sylvanas."

Sylvanas scoffed. "Wren, you've always been a slave, even before I made it official. You have always been a slave to your instincts. Those years ago when the Worgen set to ambush me, you chose slavery over taking your chances in the wilds."

"I had no choice!" Wren snarled, feeling the terror of the often suppressed truth seize her. It was a nagging little fact that had haunted the dark crevices of Wren's mind. What would have happened if she had fled?

Sylvanas smiled then. "You didn't think I saw you before you were injured those ten years ago. But I did see you, you were just standing there deciding should you run to a freedom filled with hunger and constant danger or come back to me and be relatively safe as a slave girl. I think you were relieved when that Worgen injured you, so that you could come crawling back just like the scared little slave you really are."

Once again it seemed instant Wren was atop her letting her punches fly with all the rage she could muster. She only stopped when Sylvanas finally let out a whimper of agony, vainly attempting to curl up from the blows.

Sylvanas spoke through teeth clenched to fight off cries of pain. "Get it over with, Wren, I have much to do with my newly conquered territory. Kill me so that the val'kyr can find me and resurrect me already."

Wren cocked her head to the side, a breeze tousling her honey locks. There was a cunning cruel smile on her lips, one that made Sylvanas inwardly shrink away. "Who said anything about killing you? No, Sylvanas, I would not be as stupid as that. I know the val'kyr can sense your death and follow it. What they won't be able to follow or find is your undead self sinking to the bottom of the sea, chained to heavy rocks. Forever to be left in a watery grave alive. How's that for putting a wrench in your plans? All that hard work for nothing?"

If Sylvanas had blood flowing through her it would have turned to ice. Fear, true fear, such as Sylvanas had never known pierced her heart like an arrow. To be left where no one would ever find her, no hope, just an eternity at the bottom of the sea as life passed her by and she was forgotten. That truly scared Sylvanas Windrunner. "You can't do this, Wren." Sylvanas struggled faster against her bonds almost frantic, but it was all in vain.

Wren laughed, almost insanely rising and as she did so picking up the red hot brand. She played with it like a loving toy twirling it skillfully in her hand. "Compared to those ten years of hell you put me through, it is a kindness. You should be on your hands and knees thanking whatever deity you once believed in that I don't have time torture you to death." At the thought, Wren sighed pleasantly in the most crazed fashion. "Finally my deepest dreams come true."

She knelt beside Sylvanas one hand gripping her silver hair the other steadying the brand aimed for Sylvanas' face. Wren smiled crazily. "Now, won't this be a nice beauty mark seared onto your cheek? I am almost sad no one will ever see it."

Panic gripped the Dark Lady, she was unable to tear her gaze away from the glowing brand. Awkwardly she tried to move away but the assassin held her fast. She felt her mouth moving quickly but only a few words managed to stumble out. "Wren, no, please."

Wren laughed like a crazed lunatic. "Beg some more, Sylvanas, like I had to all those times you punished me with that blasted curse. Go on, I want to know what it feels like to ignore a plea for mercy."

The pleading died in Sylvanas' throat, her mind wrought with terror. All she could do was listen to Wren's maniacal laughing and stare at the glowing iron of the brand.

The brand came down. Sylvanas couldn't help but shut her eyes, all muscles tensing, a cry of fear escaping the lips of the Banshee Queen. The flaming hot metal hissed fiercely, as smoke rose up to the air. Sylvanas' eyes shot open to find the brand firmly planted in the grass inches away from her face. The dewed grass blackened and curled against the heat, with a little smoke rising to the slowly brightening sky.

Slowly, Sylvanas' eyes tore away from the brand to look at Wren in awed disbelief. "Y…you…you spared me?"

The assassin no longer looked insane, but a grimace was etched into her face. She nodded slowly. "Unlike you, Sylvanas, I will not become the master which I hated." Wren tossed the brand aside carelessly. "But come after me or Thalos and I will fulfill my revenge. That is a promise, and as you always liked to say, I never disappoint."

With that, Wren let out a deep sigh; it seemed a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulder. She had resisted temptation of vengeance towards Sylvanas. That made a world of difference to Wren, knowing that the cycle of hate ended with her. With a wide smile, she began to walk away.

"Wren." Sylvanas' voice halted the assassin. The Dark Lady sounded timid, ashamed, confused, like a child woken from a bad dream.

Wren almost turned back, but halted mid way. There was nothing Sylvanas could say about the sudden moment of mercy and even if she had thought of a reasonable question Wren would have had no answer.

"Good bye, mistress." Wren finally managed to say before turning forward and walking away into the dawn.

_A/N: Just one, maybe two chapters more and this story will be done! _


	11. It's A Wonderful Life

"And after I walked away from Sylvanas, securing our safety and freedom, your mother and father were married. We then moved to this secluded place away from the worlds ills of war and death to live in peace with you, little Treyal." Wren finished her tale, whispering softly to the contentedly sleeping baby boy in her arms.

Six months after being freed, Wren and Thalos had been blessed with a child. They named the boy Treyal, in loose Thallarisian meaning 'heart of fire'. The babe was comfortably wrapped in a blue blanket, off away in his own dreams. His ears were already beginning to grow more like his fathers, slender and long but his face had more of Wren's human heritage. His eyes were a deep deep turquoise, glowing just like Thalos' but oddly human as well. His hair, although in thin little strands, was golden just as hers.

The former assassin sat in a wicker rocking chair that creaked to a slow tempo as she rocked her son. A warm fire crackled merrily in the hearth defending the small home from the biting winter wind that whistled in the air. All was quiet and peaceful in the small home nestled at the base of the Hinterland cliffs. Rarely did adventurers come to the Hinterlands, and certainly none came so far west at the cliffs base to find their home. The farthest people ever went down the base of the cliff was to the small troll run village of Revantusk.

"Thank the Light he always falls asleep when you tell him that story." Thalos whispered coming up behind Wren. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders planting a tender kiss on her cheek. "I love our son, but one more hour of crying and I would have burst into tears as well."

Wren had to laugh at the all too true statement before meeting Thalos in another kiss. The baby began to stir at the movement, mewling a bit with his tiny legs and fists stretching out. Wren drifted off from kissing her husband in fear the tiny bundle would awake. She gave him an apologetic smile, and Thalos simply nodded in silent understanding. Thalos withdrew quietly, tip toeing to a peg on the wall to retrieve his cloak and mace.

"I am off to Revantusk." He affirmed while throwing on his cloak before strapping the two handed weapon into place across his back. The heaviness of the mace felt good across his back reassuring in its own way. In its own uniqueness the mace was a comfort knowing that while he wielded it he could always protect his son and mate. "I'll be back in a few days with our winter supplies."

"Be safe," Wren whispered losing her smile. She was well aware that Thalos could take care of himself, but to long had she been an assassin who'd relied so much on her survival instincts. She could not help but see more than the natural dangers that could present themselves to her beloved mate.

Thalos halted at the door, his hand just about to turn the handle. He knew he should reply in kind, but knew without a shadow of a doubt any one coming to harm her or their son would find themselves the ones who needed to find safety. Despite Wren's new role as mother, Thalos knew she was still just as deadly, ruthless, and cunning with stealth and daggers as she had been only a short two year ago. In fact, a month after their son was born he had caught her practicing her rogue maneuvers behind the house on hastily made dummies of wood and straw. Instead, he turned to Wren flashing a warm smile of assurance. Turning up the hood of his cloak, he left out into the chilly winds of the Hinterlands.

As the door closed a draft blew in wiping the crackling flames into all directions and making Wren shiver. Wrapping the blanket tighter around Treyal, she rose slowly, praising her silent skills from all those years as an assassin. The babe didn't even know he was being moved until he was placed into his crib. The child gurgled quietly once, and Wren held her breath praying he would not awake. When he settled once more it was all the former assassin could do not to heave a huge sigh of relief. She stood there for a moment staring at the peacefully sleeping half elf. A year ago, if some one had told her she would be living a quiet life in the Hinterlands with an elven husband and her child, she would have called them crazy. But it wasn't crazy; it was wonderful, like her husband and son.

Wren smiled as she stroked a finger across her son's cheek. He was so young and precious, oblivious to the dangerous world outside his home unlike her who learned early and viciously how cruel life was. The former assassin sighed at the thought her lips turning downward. One day, like she, he would learn the truth, but she was determined to stave off that day as long as possible.

Backing away from the crib quietly, Wren grabbed her cloak that had hung on a peg beside Thalos' and wrapped it around herself. With one last check that all was in order and that her son was truly asleep and safely tucked away in bed, Wren opened the door and slid outside.

The full moon shone nearly as bright as dawn, casting all in a lustrous pale glow. What few tress that were around their home swayed with the never ending chill bite of the wind. Huge, yet docile turtles, huddled together for warmth in large clusters, their heads tucked into their shells so that they looked akin to huge silver mounds of earth on the sands. Moon lit water lapped against the sand, its constant soothing crash onto land like a lullaby. Wren leaned against the door; arms crossed watching the waves break upon the shore. A hand brushed a way ward strand of hair from across her face. This here was perfect, and yet…

Her dagger was out in an instant, she turned on the figure that had stealthily walked up grabbing them by the shoulder and pinning them fast to the door which she had just been leaning on. Her face was contorted in rage and fury as she pushed her dagger closer on the intruder's throat.

"I thought I made it clear that last time we saw one another that if you came after me I would fulfill my revenge upon you, Sylvanas." Wren snarled.

The Dark Lady seemed relaxed and calm though her eyes never left the blade. She smirked. "Your prowess and instincts are still top notch I see. Put the dagger away, Wren, I didn't come after you, I came to talk."

The blade pressed further to Sylvanas throat as Wren looked into the Banshee Queens eyes. She saw there was no lie to be had, and slowly withdrew the blade.

"What do you want?" Wren asked, lowering the dagger but not sheathing it.

Sylvanas rubbed her neck, grimacing. "Can we talk inside instead of out in the elements?"

"No." Came the cold immediate response. "I don't want you defiling my home or being in the same room with my son. If you have anything to say speak your piece and be gone, Sylvanas. I won't tolerate your presence for long."

"I came to congratulate you on the new edition to your family." Sylvanas lips upturned into a half smile.

Wren's eyes narrowed dangerously, her jaw became set. "If you so much as think about laying a hand on my son…" The threat hung thickly in the dry air.

"Why so hostile, Wren?" Sylvanas leaning against the door. "I do know what you're capable of and wouldn't dream of laying a hand on your child."

Wren let out a disbelieving, humorless laugh. "Why so hostile?" She echoed, before pointing a finger at Sylvanas. "Maybe it's because the monster who owned me for ten years is standing at the threshold of my home!"

Wren felt all the anger come back. The memories from her years in servitude appeared crystal clear in her mind. Long hours of merciless training, mistreatment, and humiliation all at Sylvanas' cruel hands resurged with furious clarity. The former assassin was beginning to wonder why she hadn't maimed the Dark Lady when she had had the chance, two years ago.

"I'm sorry." Came the sudden, quiet nearly undetectable reply from the Banshee Queen.

"And another thing." Wren began about to completely let her wrath fly into the windy night at her former mistress. She stopped as if hit by lightening, the two words finally registering. Never had she heard Sylvanas ever say those two words in the same sentence. The wrath was momentarily converted into shock and confusion. Wren brows furrowed, she blinked a few times as if not believing what she'd just heard. "You're what?"

Sylvanas shrugged, staring off into the distance at the glassy sea that reflected the moon's luminance. "I know an apology doesn't even come close to making amends for what I did to you. But I just needed to say it anyway. I am sorry for enslaving and mistreating you."

Wren cocked her head slightly to the side. Her dagger dropped from a defensive position. "You came alone in the dead of night to tell me this? Why?"

"Well for starters I finally managed to track you down." Sylvanas chuckled once then sobered to explain. "I never forgot that day, Wren. With the brand coming down upon my face to sear into my flesh, I can still feel the terror grip me when I think of it. I will also never forget the immense surprise I felt when I realized you had spared me a fate I rightly deserved. I expected torture, death, imprisonment, but never mercy. Yet still that is not what affected me so. The words you spoke, I had become the master which I hated." Her words drifted off into silent contemplation before she sighed and continued. "You were right. In more ways than one I had become the master which I hated. I had become the Lich King. I do not want that, Wren I will move heaven and Azeroth to work my way up from that vile pit. So yes, I truly do come here to beg your forgiveness."

Did she really think it that simple? Wren thought still staring at the Banshee Queen in disbelief. After all she had put her through, had Sylvanas really risked life and limb to apologize to a person she knew might actually maim her? In the Undercity, Wren had known Sylvanas better than anyone, she could read her like a book. Looking at her now, Wren detected the surprising sincerity and shame Sylvanas felt.

"I still hate you, Sylvanas. Nothing you could do will ever change that fact. Come here again and I will not be tolerant of your presence. But…" It was Wren's turn to drift into silence. She pondered it over for long minutes before taking in a deep breath. "Apology accepted."

That appeared to be all Sylvanas wanted to hear. She said no more but offered Wren a respectful bow before disappearing into the night. Ever vigilant Wren made sure Sylvanas truly left. It was only after the eerie glow the undead horse hooves produced was no longer visible in the blackness did Wren zip inside her home like hell was on her heels. She practically leapt to Treyal's crib to find the babe still sleeping contentedly totally oblivious to the nights unwanted visitor. Had Sylvanas taken the child, the living dead and all its powers would not have been able to stop Wren's wrath. Heaving a quiet sigh of relief, she made sure all was in order in the home, only to notice a lock box resting on the kitchen table. It was a plain black wooden box, completely unadorned save for the intricate lock that hung upon it. Sylvanas had left it, there was no denying that. That fact made Wren uncomfortable; she did not like knowing the Banshee Queen had found away into their home with out her knowledge even if she hadn't touched her son.

Instead of picking it up, Wren circled the box carefully, her eyes peering for any kind of trick or trap. When she finally decided the all clear, she hastily scooped it up. It had been a long while since she had put her pick locking skills to the test and she was eager to try her hand. Placing it by the wicker rocking chair she rushed to grab her burglar's kit. The burglar's kit was a small leather parcel looking bag. It held 'quiet oil' for rusty hinges and a litany of small picks for all sorts of locks. Placing the kit beside the chair as well, Wren picked her tools carefully and went to work at once. In a heartbeat she would tell anyone, and truthfully, she wouldn't give up her life here for anything. But, sometimes she did find herself missing parts of her old life. The action, the heart pounding thrill of the kill after a successful assassination and the cunning mind games one had to play in order to achieve the end one desired.

It took Wren a good hour, and many a try to finally hear that well known, joyous click as the lock became undone. Slowly, she opened the box, more to caution than drawing out the excitement. What she found took her breath away. Twin daggers rested on a thick bedding of blue silk. The blades had to be dragon fangs for Wren could see no mark of steel or any other sort of ore and they were certainly much to big to be bone. One side was razor thin while the other edge was serrated, perfect for slashing or stabbing. The hilts were made of Pyrite wrapped with thick strips of black leather for added grip. Unbreakable golden filigree connected fang to hilt in the most beautiful of patterns. Gorgeous and efficient, a rogues dream weapons.

Taking them out the box with care, the former assassin did a few stabbing maneuvers and found them the perfect balance. With a smile she briefly imagined herself taking on a foe with these in her grip. A few critical stabs to a major artery and bam!

Just as she was imagining the last finishing move, Treyal let out a whimper of fear. Her mind came back to the humble home, and her child probably having a bad dream. She looked to her hands with a grimace. This was her old life. The assassin, the slave, filled with hate and anger was no more. Wren smiled sadly, giving a faint sigh placing the daggers back in their box and sliding them away. Stealthily she made her way to the crib once more. Treyal had begun to whimper a bit, tears brooking in his closed eyes.

"It's alright, Trey, you are safe." Wren whispered to her son soothing while picking him up.

She stroked the babes head while singing quietly to ease his fears. Even though he couldn't understand her words, her tone was gentle as the waves lapping upon the shore. Taking a seat in the rocking chair once more, she realized she couldn't care less about the magnificent daggers as she rocked her son.

~8~8~

"Wren?" The assassin heard Thalos' voice faintly although laced with concern.

Wren's brows furrowed, she squinted her eyes open to find her mate looking down at he in alarm. Treyal was gurgling and moving about, wanting to be held by his father but still in Wren's sturdy grip it was all in vain. The fire from last night had died to smolders with a few lazy lines of smoke drifting into the chimney. She realized she was still in the rocking chair, and had slept there all night.

"Are you alright?" Thalos asked while scooping his son up from Wren's arms.

The baby boy smiled and blew spit bubbles while vainly attempting to reach his fathers long eyebrows with his tubby hands.

"Yea, I'm fine." Wren yawned rubbing a hand over her face. Last night seemed like a dream but just by looking at the box near the fireplace she knew it hadn't been. She grimaced at the thought. "Sylvanas paid me a little visit though."

Immediately Thalos went from father to paladin. His eyes looked around for trouble, a hand going to the mace strapped across his back.

"No worries, she didn't do anything." Wren soothed her husbands fear with a weak smile.

His eyes, still roving for trouble found the box. He looked to Wren one of his slender eyebrows raised.

"Daggers." Wren explained after reading his silent question. "I think they were a gift in congratulations to the birth of our son." The former assassin paused for a moment before continuing. "I was thinking about it last night, and I want to give them to Treyal when he is of age to learn how to fight."

Both parents had known since birth Treyal would not take much after his father. He might learn a few paladin spells but he hadn't much knack for magic. There was a very great chance he would take after Wren's skills which had already been proven after he had found a way to get out of his crib once without harm.

"You would take a gift from that witch?" Thalos asked incredulous.

"Yes." Wren replied after a long moments of consideration. "In its own way, it's a part of forgiving her."

"Forgiving…" Thalos echoed flabbergasted. Just what had gone on while he was away?

Wren flashed him one of her famous 'don't ask' looks and Thalos halted. He had to remember, Wren knew what she was doing and that her reasons were her own. Giving her an understanding smile, Thalos nodded before turning his attention back to their son. Now the complete center of his fathers attention little Treyal did some serious exploration of his fathers face. Tiny saliva coated fists smacked into Thalos cheeks before a chubby hand gripped his father slender nose. Wren couldn't help but laugh and smile fondly at the pair. Rising she wrapped an arm around Thalos' neck before kissing him tenderly on the cheek.

"I wouldn't give this up for the world itself." Wren revealed in a whisper.

Kissing his mate back, Thalos nodded in agreement as they took a few silent moments alone. Standing in the middle of their living room, mother, father, and son. Wren realized it was truly a wonderful life, not of survival, but of love.

_A-N: I am no good at endings, it took me forever to work this out. Thanks to all the people who read and reviewed! _


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